


Sydney Cornick

by fayegonin



Series: Siren [2]
Category: Alpha and Omega - Patricia Briggs, Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: Non-canon for Sage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:54:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8673400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayegonin/pseuds/fayegonin
Summary: There were some requests for a sequel, and I couldn't resist. Non Canon after the release of Burn Bright, although some wildlings may find their way in. I love the world of these werewolves (which doesn't belong to me ect. for all that I love to write in it.) Enjoy! - I will keep updating until it says the end.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

  
I sigh. The Marrok called me again. He calls at least twice a day, every day. I try to make sure I pick up at least once. I will accept his offer, but not yet. Not right now. My pack needs me for a while longer. “Hello, Bran.” He is being angry this time.  
“Why won’t you come home already?”  
I simply sigh and hang up. I am Sydney Einar, Alpha of the Saranac Pack. Bran has conceived this ridiculous notion that he can claim me. I retain my right to choose. He can’t or won’t force me, unwilling to start that fight. I accept his phone calls, so he continues with that. I would say that it started at the gathering of Alphas, two months ago, but it probably started when I visited Aspen Creek the first time. Bran’s mate died a few months ago, so it makes sense that he is searching for a new mate. Because he controls so many more wolves than I do, I would probably be forced to obey his commands. But no one can force a mating bond, and Bran will accept nothing less. This means that he will try to manipulate me any way he can think of. The only problem is that I am aware of his machinations, and can predict most of them before they happen. Bran is unused to dealing with equals, and I do consider myself his equal.  
Not that I am averse to marrying him, but he has yet to ask. He just assumed that I would, because he could smell my interest. I am more than my instincts. I hear a crash in the other room. I walk down at a steady pace. Life in the house is interesting, with two new wolves around. They get on well with each other, but not everyone else in the pack is so welcoming. I reach the kitchen. It appears that one of the giant pots I keep around went flying through the wall. I sigh again, calling “Eli, what happened?” Eli, our pack submissive will tell me the unembellished truth. Julian, my third walks in the other door, with Josh, one of my new wolves, behind him.  
Eli replies “I was cooking at the stove, and I saw Eliza fall to the ground.” Eliza is my other new wolf. She is turning 18 next week, and is a powerful witch. Eli continues “I then saw a pot go flying from that shelf, straight at Alex. He ducked, and the pot went through the wall.”  
I glare at Eliza, who drops her eyes, acknowledging my dominance. “I am sorry, Sydney. I didn’t mean for the pot to damage the wall, just Alex.”  
I look at Alex “Why might that be, Alex?”  
He also drops his eyes “I might have brushed against her.”  
I roll my eyes. Alex doesn’t seem to realize that no means no. He is just old enough to believe that women should be grateful for any attention he shows them.  
I have to settle this “Alex, next time, keep in mind that it could be a knife. I know werewolves are nearly invincible, but please don’t be stupid. Eliza, if he bothers you again, come see me, don’t throw a pot through my wall.”  
Eliza looks contrite. I am not sure I believe it. Teenagers can manage contrite better than anyone. She declares “I’ll fix the wall, Sydney.”  
I ask “Do you know anything about sheetrock? Or are you going to levitate it back together?” This reminds me “I thought that you had agreed not to do any spells until your wolf was more under control.”  
She shrugs guiltily “I didn’t mean to. Telekinesis is more of a talent, not a spell.” I sigh, because she is correct. I need to find her a teacher. But finding a teacher for a white witch is difficult enough, a werewolf witch harder still. Everyone knows the Marrok hates witches. I return to my office, leaving Julian to fix the problem. I know he’ll have it taken care of by the time I return. I am going to approach finding Eliza’s teacher in a different way.

Chapter 2:

I smile, finally happy to have made some progress. I had exhausted all of my contacts in the witch world, which were, admittedly, not extensive. I have only been living in the states for about five years, although my accent is perfect American teenager. I hacked the Marrok’s files for witches and related information. Almost none of the witches have favorable reviews, but there are a few white witches that are approved for werewolf contact. There is one that looks especially powerful, and is mated to a werewolf. They could be the solution to my problems. I write down the phone number and erase any trace of my presence in the Marrok’s files. I still don’t know who his hacker is, but they are good. Whoever it is must suspect that someone is snooping, because every time I go into the files, there is another layer of security. I call the witch. Her name is Moira, and the file says she is blind.  
“Who is this? I’m not in the habit of taking business calls at 6am, and how did you get ahold of this number? It’s my private phone.” I smile, I like this witch already.  
I reply “I am very sorry, I am calling from the East Coast and didn’t realize the time difference.” She lives in Seattle with her mate, Tom, who belongs to the Emerald City pack.  
She mutters something that I can’t make out, even with my werewolf hearing. I wait politely. Finally she snarls, sounding like a werewolf “I would hang up for your being inconsiderate, but my instincts say that this is important. What would you like my help with?”  
I decide to test her a little bit, I do hate being yelled at. “If it is a problem, I can hang up. I could call back in a few hours.”  
“I’m up now, please tell me. Who are you, by the way?”  
I smile, pleased. “I am alpha of the Saranac pack. I have a proposition for you.”  
“Oh, you’re that wolf, the female Alpha. About time someone showed the men who’s the boss.” I hear laughter from her end of the phone.  
I reply “Is your mate there?”  
“Is that a problem?”  
“Not at all, if you agreed he would probably be impacted to some extent.”  
“Agreed to what? I am not moving across the country, my mate is second here.”  
I smile “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I believe she wants to attend college out west.”  
“Who?”  
I smile again. This witch is sharp “I have a young werewolf who desperately needs training in her witch powers. I could help her some, and I have, but the small power that I have is vastly different from hers.”  
“White or black?” She doesn’t mean race, rather the type of magic Eliza practices.  
“She is a white witch, but powerful. Her power was strong but under control before the Change. She is retaining control, but she has great potential.”  
Moira replies “I would like to hear more.”  
Her mate interrupts “Have you cleared this with the Marrok?”  
I smile “I am sure he will be fine with it, once I explain the situation properly.”  
Tom continues “You will also need approval from Angus.”  
“Your Alpha? You tell me if that would be a problem.”  
Moira says “Hey, it is my decision. Would you like to meet to discuss this further, Sydney?”  
I reply “I can fly down next week to discuss this further in person. I will get approval from the Marrok and meet with your Alpha then. My wolf is turning 18 next week. I will fly down after her birthday.”  
Moira replies “I will speak to you then.” I hang up the phone.  
I hear a knock on my door “Yes?” I call. “Come in.” Eliza enters the room.  
“Why were you talking about me on the phone? Am I in trouble with the Marrok?”  
I ask “Where did you get that idea?”  
She shuffles her feet “The pack says that the Marrok doesn’t like witches.”  
I reply “He distrusts black witches, because his mother was one and treated him cruelly. You know that people often fail to differentiate between types of witches.”  
She snorts and asks “And what type are you?”  
I raise my eyebrow “I’m not a witch.” She drops her eyes but then asks  
“So what were you calling about?”  
I reply “Finding you a proper teacher. You’re a strong witch, with classic witch talents. I do not deal with classic witch magic. It is outside my ability range.”  
She replies “But you shred my spells easily enough.”  
I nod “There is a great deal of difference between destruction and creation of magic, as you already know.”  
She sighs “I know I need a proper teacher, but you said I need control of my wolf first before I can live outside the pack.”  
I smile “You won’t be leaving the packs just yet. But you might be attending college next fall.”  
She looks excited at that, but then scowls, suspecting a trick of some sort. “Attending college where?”  
“That is yet to be determined. I’ll know more when I come back from a trip I’ll be leaving on soon.” I smile and add gently “After your birthday party.”  
I talk with her for a while, and then remind her that she still needs to repair the wall. She scowls, but goes off to learn how to fix sheetrock. Maybe that will keep her from throwing a pot through the wall next time.

Chapter 3:

Eliza’s birthday party went well. Her mother came on my invitation, and they were both happy to see each other. I ignored Bran for a day, and then asked about the policies for werewolves transferring packs. The process is simple: The wolf must choose to leave and the next alpha must accept them. I nod at the information only saying that one of my wolves wants to go back to school, in a city.  
I hate planes, unless I am the pilot. Even then, I prefer to have my feet planted on the ground. The little magic I have is from the earth. I prefer to be in contact with the earth. My magic is of wood and glen, not the freaking sky. The plane finally starts descending, my ears screaming at the pressure change. Upon arriving at the airport, I am greeted by a submissive wolf, Alan Choo. I know this game, and it makes me look forward to meeting the Alpha of Seattle, Angus Hopper. In my experience, most Alphas prefer to send a strong wolf to intimidate visitors.  
Alan greets me with a bowed head, careful not to make eye contact. He is obviously familiar with how wolves react to airplanes. I smile and ask “Are you from the Emerald City pack?”  
He glances up “Yes. Do you intend to rent a car?”  
I reply “No, I think I’ll go with public transportation.”  
He replies “I have a car. Where would you like to go?”  
I ask “If you could recommend a good hotel, that would be great. When would your Alpha like to meet with me?”  
Alan smiles slightly at the delicate way I phrase my question. Not an order, but not accepting an order either. “He would like to see you tomorrow, as he understands plane rides are not kind to werewolves. It is also somewhat late in the evening. My car is this way.”  
I walk beside him to his car. He asks “Would you like to drive?”  
I smile, although I am sure it isn’t my best smile. I reply “I am not great at driving in cities.”  
He puts forward “Dominant wolves are usually happier driving.”  
I reply “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry; my control is fine as long as you don’t crash. Then I might get annoyed.”  
He glances at me dubiously but slides into the driver’s seat. I get in the other side of the car.  
I start a polite conversation “So what do you do for a living? I smell blood and death.”  
He winces “My family owns a morgue. I’m a healer, of sorts.”  
I ask “Of what sort?”  
He gives a shrug “Eastern medicine and the like.”  
I smile “And you’re used to skepticism, so you don’t elaborate.”  
He glances at me, so I know I’m correct, and it surprised him. Then he nods “I think I understand why you have everyone so concerned.”  
I fake some confusion for a minute “Your pack is concerned about me?”  
He replies “Not my pack, the werewolf community in general. You’re very dominant.”  
I shrug “I am what I am.”  
He adds “Some wolves believe dominance is a product of age.”  
I reply “It’s not. Submissives tend to live the longest, but there are less of them.” He is very good at fishing for information. Angus probably set him up to it, but Alan is doing a very good job.  
He replies “Bran is dominant, and possibly the oldest werewolf on the planet.”  
I reply “I heard he is so old that they didn’t have a calendar back then.”  
Alan sneaks a glance at me, sees my amusement and asks “How old are you?”  
I reply with my typical response “Never ask a lady her age. It is unbecoming.”  
Alan winces “You sound like my grandmother when she says that. Except in Chinese.”  
I repeat the statement in Mandarin.  
He replies in English “Your accent is unfamiliar.”  
I nod “I know, it isn’t a proper Chinese accent, but it is the best I can do.”  
He frowns “It’s a rural accent. I think. I haven’t spent enough time in China to be sure.” He pulls over to the side of the street next to a hotel. “One of the better hotels in town.”  
I smile and get out of the car. “The ride and conversation was very nice.”  
He nods “One of the pack will be by tomorrow at 8 to pick you up.” He drives away, and I head into the hotel. I rent a room on the third floor, a safe jump but too far for a human. I know there are vampires active in Seattle, so I lock my door. Not that I expect to be attacked, but safety precautions don’t hurt. I won’t sleep well, away from my territory, but that is expected. I can live with just a few hours of sleep.

As promised, there is a car with a werewolf in it the next morning. He also offers me the chance to drive, and I again refuse. He is not nearly as interesting as Alan Choo, and is a lesser dominant wolf, probably near the bottom of the pack hierarchy.  
We arrive at an inconspicuous office building of some high-tech company. A lot of werewolves seem to be in the security business. The wolf nods to the receptionist, and escorts me up the stairs to an office. He knocks on the door. An Alpha calls “Come in.” I enter, Angus standing to greet me. We exchange a handshake, and the other wolf melts away. He gestures to the seat across from the desk and we sit at about the same time. He hasn’t tried to stare me down yet, which confirms the good impression I had of him from the available information. He asks “What brings you to the Emerald City? I heard you contacted my witch, Moira.”  
I nod “Of course. She is mated to your second, is she not?”  
He replies “She is.” His use of the possessive ‘my witch’ for Moira indicates that he might be more trusting of witches than most.  
I reply “I have something of a dilemma. A young woman was recently changed by a rogue wolf in my territory.”  
He asks “What does that have to do with my witch?”  
I reply “She is a strong white witch. She desperately needs proper training, and all of my contacts have shied away once I mention she is a werewolf. Her magic was under control and she had received training from her mother, but the Change messed with her power and control as it is wont to do.”  
Angus looks at me “So you want to send her here?”  
I shrug “I would prefer to keep her close to me, but she needs a proper teacher more than she needs me. This is a strong pack, and her control is quite good for only being wolf two months. She is strong.”  
He looks at me speculatively. “You haven’t lied, but I suspect there is more. How long do you intend on being Alpha?”  
I reply “I am always an Alpha.”  
He pushes “People have said that the Marrok is pursuing you.”  
I roll my eyes, just to see his reaction. I complain in facetious tones “He calls me twice a day, but has yet to actually ask me anything.”  
I see a glimmer of a smile “Bran is unaccustomed to asking.”  
“So I’ve heard.”  
Angus adds “I’ve never heard of a female being Alpha. How did you get the position?”  
I shrug “My mate was killed by a challenger. I killed the challenger. My mate had been Alpha.”  
Angus replies “I do not have any females in the pack currently, but I have heard that females have gotten into challenge fights all over the country.”  
I answer obliquely “Women have been able to vote since 1920. Why not?” I hadn’t realized that his pack didn’t have any females. I think Eliza would still do fine, with her ability to throw pots around.  
Angus just looks at me. “Mysterious, just like the king himself. Alright, I will consider accepting your wolf. If Moira and Tom agree to it.”  
I reply “Of course. It was nice of you to lend me your time. I can tell your pack is strong and healthy.”  
“I believe yours must be as well.”

Chapter 4:  
I manage not to get too lost in Seattle on my way to Moira’s house. She works as a witch, full-time, and not as a charlatan. I knock on the door, but it opens before the second knock. A woman stands there, with wraparound sunglasses. She tilts her head, with a hint of the wolf in her expression “You must be Sydney.” She turns and goes back into the house without issuing an invitation to cross the threshold. Not an issue for me, but amusing. I step through the door, pointing out “Look, I can cross the threshold. I’m not a vampire.”  
Moira turns to me with an expression that would be a glare. “What the hell are you?”  
I ask “Werewolf.”  
She shots back “And not human.”  
I reply “I have human blood, but I’m werewolf.” Identity is one of those things you learn to manipulate after a few years.  
“You have power.”  
I shrug and drop into a chair, making sure my movements are loud. “Some. Enough to protect myself, not enough to do much with.”  
Moira hesitates “You’re not a witch.”  
I shake my head, deciding to trust this spunky lady “I have a hint of Fae blood.”  
Moira nods “Enough for glamour.”  
I stand and stalk nearer to her. “I knew you were blind, but I didn’t know you had sacrificed your eyes for power. That explains your strength.”  
She has an expression that I would call a snarl on a werewolf “Let’s discuss what you came here for.”  
I drop back into the chair. “By all means.”  
“Tell me about Eliza.”  
I reply “She is a powerful witch, as far as the scale of nice witches goes. She was above average power before the change, but gained power. It isn’t well known, but the Change can wreak havoc on magic users.”  
Moira interrupts “Tell me a story of her.”  
I nod, understanding her point “Last week, one of the wolves touched her, possibly knocked her over after she had expressly told him to stay away from her.”  
Moira interrupts “You didn’t do anything about it?”  
I laugh “I haven’t finished. She sent a great metal pot flying at his head with her magic. She called it an instinctive reaction afterward. He ducked, and the pot went through the wall. Eliza has since learned how to repair sheetrock.”  
Moira laughs “Good story. Why can’t you handle her?”  
I shrug “I can. But I can’t train her properly, and Bran has scared away most witches with his hatred of them. I could suppress her magic as long as I am in charge, but that isn’t a good long-term solution.”  
She asks “Are you considering leaving your pack?”  
I laugh “You and Angus both. I will express it simply, I am an Alpha wolf.”  
Moira nods “You’re old. Way old.”  
I put a smile in my voice “Or way young. No one is sure.” It isn’t a lie. I find myself liking this blind witch very much.  
“Would you trust me with one of your pack?”  
I shrug “Before meeting you, no. Now, I would trust Eliza to your care. Angus is a good Alpha, and your mating bond is incredibly strong. So Tom is obviously a good wolf. You’re dominant, and I suspect you could pull form your mate, which is rare in a human-wolf bond. Obviously, my Alpha wolf isn’t happy, but she’ll settle.”  
There is a knock on the door and then it opens. “Hello Moira.” He then sees me. I remain seated as I analyze the wolf who must be Tom. He smells like the streets, and I see the shiny badge.  
I smile “Police officer. I should have guessed.” I turn to Moira, and Tom bristles. I ignore him “Yes, I trust. Unless I hear otherwise.” Tom is more dominant than Eliza by a good amount, so there will be no problem, even if she loses control of her wolf.  
Tom growls “Who are you?” He is quite protective of his mate. I get up and move so I am not between them. He moves towards Moira, blocking her from me.  
“Peace, Peace. I was simply discussing a business proposal with your mate. No harm.” My wolf is bristling, even as I fight to keep control. Moira puts a hand on his shoulder, and Tom calms down enough.  
He snarls “You’re far too dominant for a female.”  
I roll my eyes “As I have been told. I am Alpha. Simple enough. Why are there no female wolves in your pack?”  
The random question, without a hint of accusation, starts to recall Tom back to himself. Moira pours coffee into three mugs and places them down at the table. Tom and I sit at the same time. Moira laughs softly, I suspect at the annoyance of dominant wolves.  
Tom replies, calming down another level “None have been changed in the area as far as I can remember, and we have not received any applications for transfer.”  
I nod “Circumstance, not design?”  
Tom replies “We have made no effort either way. It would shake up pack structure a bit. Why?”  
I reply “The witch I would like Moira to take on as apprentice is a female werewolf.”  
Tom scoffs “How is her control? She must be new.”  
I nod “Her control is exceptional, for two months. She can control her wolf, if not her temper.”  
“What did Angus say?”  
“Ask Moira first. I liked his respect for her.”  
Moira laughs “Sydney, yes, I’ll teach Eliza. But I would like to talk to her first, make sure she is willing.”  
I state “She is my wolf.”  
Moira replies “I won’t have an unwilling apprentice. Please call her now.”  
I shrug and pull my phone out slowly. No sense in provoking Tom, who had straightened up to protect Moira when she gave me the order. Moira looks between us “She is more dominant than you?” She addresses Tom.  
He nods “Undoubtedly.” I sigh and start to reign in my wolf. We are unhappy at being in such an unfamiliar place. When I am finished, Tom and Moira are both looking at me strangely.  
“What?” I toss Moira the phone. Tom catches it.  
Tom replies “Charles does that.”  
I ask “Does what?”  
“Switches from aggressive to calm in a heartbeat, and back again as quickly.” The tension drains out of the room.  
I shrug “I thought it was common. The phone is calling Eliza right now.” Tom puts it on speaker in the center of the table.  
Eliza picks up “Hello? Sydney, what is happening?”  
I reply “You get to talk to your new teacher. If you are nice, she’ll accept you and you will start lessons soon.”  
“Where?”  
“The Emerald City, Seattle.”  
“So who’s my teacher?”  
I smile “I’ll let the two of you get acquainted, while I discuss a few details with Tom.” Tom takes my cue and we move to the next room over. We can both still hear the conversation, but Moira and Eliza won’t hear us.  
Tom asks in a low voice “How old is she?”  
I reply “18. Moira will probably agree to take her on, so I need to figure out where she will be staying.”  
Tom shrugs “New wolves typically stay with Angus.”  
I agree, but “She is also an unmated female wolf. Despite her magic, wolves will approach her. She isn’t overly dominant, but neither is she likely to acknowledge dominance if someone isn’t more dominant than her. You don’t have any female wolves in your pack. Any other mated couples?”  
Tom shakes his head “None that would host a girl. I will ask around.”  
I mention “She should stay with Angus for the first few months anyway, just to be safe. But after that, she might be better off moving out of pack central.”  
Tom scowls “If she joins our pack, she joins our pack, and you don’t interfere.” I try not to smile, happy I managed to get the response I wanted.  
I acknowledge “Of course. I do understand the functioning of packs. Once she is your wolf, I will mind my own business.”  
Tom comments “And yet I have the feeling that you will stay involved.”  
Moira knocks on the door and ask “When is Eliza going to come? She’s my apprentice now.” I smile, pleased with myself. The only challenge will be getting her to Seattle, and that I can work out with Angus.

Chapter 5:

A week later and Eliza has been transferred to her new pack without disaster. Once I return home, the phone rings. I know without looking that it is Bran. “Hello again.”  
“The call is serious this time. You transferred the witch. Could you not handle her?”  
I sigh at the provocative tone and reply in kind “I could handle her just fine. Teach her, no.”  
He snarls “You think I want another wolf-witch?”  
I reply “She’s a good person. I apprenticed her to Moira.”  
Bran challenges “And Tom was fine with that?”  
I contradict “Moira was fine with that.” I wonder if he’ll catch the subtext that a women’s opinion matters.  
Bran declares “I think you should visit for the holidays, get to meet my pack. I am sure you’ll change your mind then.” I hang up. It’s been over two months, and he has yet to ask me if I want to visit. He just orders.  
I am not terribly surprised when Samuel and Ariana enter my territory the next day. I send Alex to go pick them up at the small airstrip, as he lives nearby. I have lunch ready by the time they arrive. Eli has also come to lunch, just to help keep tempers under control. We exchange pleasantries for a few minutes, then Samuel asks “Sydney, what are you doing?”  
I play innocent “Doing? About what?” Ariana laughs.  
Samuel remarks “Bran has been pursuing you. Aggressively. You have not told him to go away or accepted any of his offers. Why?”  
I smile “Direct and to the point. Quite a simple answer actually, he has yet to ask.”  
Samuel frowns “What do you mean? That’s what he’s been doing for the past month.”  
I correct “Two months and 8 days.”  
Samuel rolls his eyes “Whatever. He has claimed you as his mate. The strain is wearing on him, his control is lessening. You have to make up your mind.”  
I contradict “He has yet to ask.” I notice the engagement rings. Perhaps Ariana can prove my point for me, as Samuel looks confused. I turn to her “Ari, what did Samuel say when he gave you that ring?”  
She replies “He asked me to marry him.”  
I look at Samuel pointedly and comment “Perhaps you can explain the concept to Bran.”  
Ariana laughs, her laugh like silver bells chiming. Samuel and Eli both blink, disoriented by the sound. Ari comments “He has yet to ask. Comical, if you think about it.”  
Samuel mutters “I’m confused.”  
Ari nods “He didn’t ask the Siren anything.” I wince at the dropping of my other name, but luckily, Eli is still disoriented by Ariana’s laugh. “He just ordered or suggested that she come to him.”  
I nod my agreement. “Sometimes, I am quite a traditionalist.”  
Samuel shakes his head “This is going to make a good story in a few years. That is so characteristically Bran.”  
I smile at Ariana “I will trust you to make my point to the Marrok?”  
She pledges “I will give it my best attempt. Or just have Anna do it. He can’t stay mad at her for long.”  
I smile “Anna would be an acceptable messenger. It’s probably safer that way.” We finish lunch, and they head down to New York City for the weekend.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 6:

 

The next day, Anna calls. “Alright Sidney, I think I got your point across, but Bran is furious.”

I smile and reply “He hasn’t called me so far, so I think all is well.” We chat for a while, and then Asil calls.

“Siren, you need to stop playing your games with Bran. He’s in a terrible mood.” I chuckle lowly, under my breath. Asil gives a snort of disgust.

I interrupt a second before he is about to hang up. “In a few months, he’ll tell you that he deserved it.”

Asil retorts “I’ll believe that when I see it. What did you do anyway?”

I give a shrug and reply “I had Anna give him my indirect message. He is probably more frustrated than anything else right now.”

“Which was?”

“Ask, don’t order.”

“Sid, we’re talking about the Marrok here. He doesn’t ask.”

“Then he had better learn.” Asil recognizes the determination in my voice, and I think he can imagine the twinkle in my eye, although he can’t see it over the phone.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

I smile and admit “I was positively love struck a few months ago.”

I can picture Asil’s frown as he questions “Love struck? Siren, I was convinced you didn’t feel those softer emotions.”

I roll my eyes “I’m a werewolf, Asil, not a cold-blooded fae.”

“So you claim.”

I sigh. We have had this argument many times over the course of history. “Asil, how many times have I found a mate?”

“Three that I know of.” He should only have known of two, but he isn’t lying.

I retort “I know when the bond is ready to snap in place again.”

Asil snorts “Love-struck, really? Just prepared to take over North America?”

I laugh “Asil, you have such a high opinion of my character. Would the packs not be stronger?”

Warily Asil replies “If you and Bran can coexist.” He hangs up. I feel an annoyed scowl cross my face, but I know why he did it. It is impossible to get the last word when speaking to an Alpha wolf. It is amusing to think of him keeping the Marrok on his toes, as I am sure has been the case. Asil never knew when to keep his mouth shut. Well, not quite. He just always knows exactly how far he can push before a wolf will snap.

 

**POV change – Asil**

 

I smile at the phone that I just used to hang up on Siren. Sydney. Whatever. Her name is crucial to her character, which is how she survives the centuries. She deliberately changes herself, becomes a different person in order to stand the test of time. It is clear to me that she has spent the past few years acting as the perfect Alpha’s mate. Sydney Lyman, for a few years. But then she introduced herself as Einar again. And she is as fully comfortable in the 21st century as she was in the 15th.  Perhaps more comfortable than she was. I sigh as I hear footsteps on my gravel walk. I slip silently into the greenhouse. I have gravel on my walk so I can hear anyone that chooses to come to my house before they get there. There is a knock on my front door, which I ignore. About two seconds, then I hear the gravel crunch again as the wolf comes around to my greenhouse. It could be Sage, but she wouldn’t bother knocking first. She knows she is welcome anytime. Anna, again maybe, but my instincts say no. She has more patience. She’d wait before coming around. Besides, the strength of the trend suggests a male. I have little tolerance for most of the males in this pack, and they know to stay away. They wouldn’t dare enter the greenhouse. That leaves Charles and Bran, as Samuel is away in New York with that fae, Ariana. Why a woman scared of wolves wants to stay with Sam, I don’t know. Charles has more patience, and a hint of respect for me, so he would have waited at the door. That means the wolf approaching my greenhouse with short steps is Bran, the Mighty Marrok himself. I hope he doesn’t upset the roses. I catch his scent a second later, as well as a hint of his restrained anger. He calls “Asil, I’m coming in.” He knows I am touchy about my greenhouse, so he gives me warning. Considerate, but I understand why Siren is making him ask, not order. But he is my Alpha, and entitled to the privilege of giving orders. Unless I don’t like them.

I smile, knowing the smile isn’t very human “Bran, dear fellow, what brings you to my oasis of beauty in the middle of this frigid clime?”

He snorts at my flowery language. “Anna delivered your Sydney’s message.”

I step back “She’s not my Sydney. Not this century.” I add before I can stop myself “I knew the Siren.”

Bran grins. His smile isn’t human either “Meaning what?”

I shrug my shoulders, not meeting his gaze. “She changes with her names. You were Bran before you were the Marrok, but the two are not quite the same.”

He asks “What was her original name?”

“I have no idea.” Someone probably knows it, but it isn’t me.

Bran scowls “Fine, fine. I’ll ask a question you can answer. What is her favorite type of flower?”

I hide my smile although some sigh of my amusement must leak out because Bran bristles. I reply “You can tell me, Bran. You’re the one that will give them to her.”

He scowls again, understanding that it is a test. “A hint?”

I nod, still keeping my eyes averted “It matters not so much as what is her favorite, as what she interprets from the choice.”

Bran studies my greenhouse for a long minute. “Roses, Asil? Always roses.”

I stay silent, not sure if that is a question or a decision. After the silence stretches I answer “There are many types of roses.” I wince inwardly at how effective Bran uses that silence of his. When silence stretches, the other person always feels compelled to fill it. I refuse to speak further.

Bran asks “What if I’m wrong?”

I bow my head and reply “I am but a lowly gardener.”

Bran snorts, still scanning the roses. I watch him from beneath my lowered eyelids. His eyes keep pausing on the dark crimson roses, the color of fresh blood. In this modern age, they mean true love and desire. In years past, they meant darker things. Roses are the color of fresh blood. "Those, the dark red ones."

I query "With or without thorns?"

"With." I select a few, placing a dark rose in the center with five slighter brighter roses around it. He asks "Why seven?"

I answer "What other number?" Bran growls and sweeps towards the door.

He pauses before he exits "Thank you, Asil." he is sincere, wonder of wonders, but still in a terrible mood. If I could be a fly on the wall for their next meeting...

 

Chapter 7:

 

I felt his presence as soon as he stepped onto my territory, could feel his determination through the earth. Bran was quite sure of himself, and incredibly dominant. Here, in my territory, perhaps I could take him in a straight fight. In his territory, I would need other tricks. He drives straight to my front door, and exits the car. I can hear and feel his footstep on the ground. The pack is all elsewhere right now, even my newest wolf has finally moved out. He is living in the same apartment as a couple of my other wolves now.

The doorbell rings. I can feel his intense emotional turmoil through the earth, but there is no trace of it on his face as I open the door. He drops to one knee and presents me with a bouquet of roses. I recognize the one in the center as from Asil's garden. He comes with Asil's approval then, although he may not know it. But why has hhe dropped to one knee?

I get my answer a split second later as he opens a small box with a simple gold band. "Sydney Einar, will you marry me?" I pause. He continues "Will you be mine?" How unlike the careful Marrok to go straight for marriage. I consider it, with my head tilted wolfishly. If things don't work out, I could always kill him.

I reply with fluttering eyelashes "Why Bran, that’s so sweet of you. I would be delighted."

He looks up at me, suspicion in his gaze "That's it?"

I smile "All you had to do was ask. If you would like, I have lunch ready." He follows me into the house, and I grin when he can’t see my expression. I arrange the roses on the table.These next few weeks will be fun.

That evening, I summon a few members of the pack. Eli comes over early to help me with dinner. He knocks and I call for him to enter. He walks in the door comfortably, and freezes when he sees Bran at the table. He calls “Sydney, are you aware that the Marrok is sitting at your dining room table?” I look into the room. His eyes are glued to the floor, and Bran has an eyebrow raised.

I reply cheerfully “Yes, I know. We’re going to get married.” Eli glances at my face for a second then drops his eyes again. He usually isn’t so timid. I give an order to end his dilemma “Come help me in the kitchen.” I shut the door behind me and turn on the water.

“What’s the problem?” Eli is shaking.

He stutters “What are you doing?”

I reply “I am going to marry him. I wasn’t joking. Relax, Eli. I have things under control. That is what this meeting is about. Max will be your new Alpha. He’s good, if a bit young. Julian is better second than third and he’ll keep Alex under control.” I send out reassuring thoughts and ask “Why were you so upset at seeing the Marrok?”

Eli shrugs “I’ll miss you, Sydney.”

I give him a hug, saying “You are welcome in my home anytime, Eli.” I can feel steps on my front walk, so I turn off the water and give Eli cooking instructions. The door rings and Max comes in a second later. I watch from the door to the kitchen as Max tries to meet the gaze of the Marrok and fails. I realize he has never met Bran before. I introduce “Bran, this is my second, Max. Max, say hi to the Marrok.”

Max blanches but attempts to smile. His eyes are still lowered, acknowledging Bran’s dominance but not complete submission. I return to the kitchen as a pot bubbles over. Max will let the next few people invited to my party in. Julian and Josh arrive a few minutes later. Eli and I bring the food out. I start a polite conversation, and warn all of my wolves with my eyes to follow it. I think I catch a hint of amusement from the Marrok, but it is difficult to tell. He is so contained. After Eli and Josh clear the plates and coffee is served josh asks “Sydney, what is going on? I would very much like to know.” I say nothing, wanting to see where he goes with this. He continues a beat later “If it’s important, I understand why everyone else is invited. But why am I here?”

I smile, grateful for the perfect lead in. “Because you will be one of the most directly affected. You are new yet, so great care must be taken with the upcoming changes.” Every eye in the room is on me. I nod regally “In short, I am leaving.” Max looks surprised, Josh looks terrified, but Julian looks smug. Eli is resigned.

Julian interrupts “That’s why you have been wrapping things up. Shipping Eliza off like that, clearing up everything, a few mysterious disappearances. I thought you would be leaving. But why?” There is nothing but curiosity in his voice, although I can feel tension through the bond, focused on Bran. Julian’s wolf doesn’t feel the need to protect me, but the man does. And having the acknowledged most dominant wolf sitting next to me does raise the tension in the room.

Bran interrupts “She’s marrying me.” I kick Bran under the table. Nothing shows on his face, as I expected. I nod in agreement.

Max asks “So who’s Alpha?”

I smile “Why Max, you are. I think you’re ready for the responsibility.” 

He frowns “But I’m not nearly as dominant as you are. Don’t Alphas need to be really dominant?”

Julian retorts “You are really dominant, Max. Sydney is simply exceptional. There are many Alphas less dominant than you.”

I nod “He is correct. I know you have an adorable baby at home, but you can handle it. As Second, you would have support with your family. As Alpha, everyone in the pack will volunteer to babysit. And your child will never be in danger from wolves.”

Josh looks really confused. I address him directly “Josh, I know this is new and scary, but Max will be a good Alpha for you. He knows what he is doing.” I see Max make a face out of the corner of my eye. I hope Josh didn’t see it. I speak into Max’s mind “Lesson one – never show uncertainty unless it is to your second or submissive and only if you trust them implicitly.” He starts to make another face, and then hides it. Josh lowers his head in acknowledgment.

I address Julian “You know the drill. You’ve done this before.” He nods agreement. I make eye contact with Eli. He lowers his head in submission.

Max asks again “When?”

I glance at Bran “We will leave tonight, I think.” He nods. I look at Max “I’ll transfer the pack over to you tonight, and the bonds will solidify at the full moon run tomorrow night. It will be tricky for you until then, but you can handle a day of tension. Don’t expect to get any work done tomorrow though.”

Max rolls his eyes “Yes, Sydney.” He’s never been Alpha before, but he can do it. After all, he’s had nearly a year to learn from the best.

I complete the ceremony with Max, leaving a few words of advice and an order to call me if he really needs help. I give Eli a key to a closed chest in the basement, and a farewell wave to Julian. Josh is already focused on Max. I poke the pack bonds, just a little, and Max turns to snarl at me. I meet his eyes and salute. Then I get in the car that Bran has waiting for me.

 

Chapter 8:

 

Aspen Creek is as deceptively picturesque as I remembered. We arrive early in the morning the day after the full moon. Bran owns two planes. I left mine with Max as the new owner, although he probably won’t figure that out for another month or so. Max also has no idea how to fly a plane. But I must stop thinking about my old pack. I have a new one now.

A large man that Bran addresses as Colin picks us up from the airport. The town is silent, all of the wolves asleep after the late night hunt of the night before. Colin, or as he prefers to be called, Tag, chats amiably with me. I am polite, but aware of Bran stewing in the back, as well as the undertone of suspicion in the conversation. When Tag drops us off at Bran’s house I glare at him accusingly. “You didn’t tell them.”

He snaps back “No, I didn’t.”  I laugh. He scowls.

I ask “Where can I stay that will be approachable, but signal that I am here?”

Bran asks “Aren’t you great friends with Asil?”

I tilt my head as we go in the door “The Moor is not someone I would define as approachable.”

Bran challenges “What is wrong with my house?”

I remark “You are Alpha. Having a complete stranger in your house isn’t really the best idea until people get to know me. It is traditional for the bride to stay elsewhere until the wedding.” His wolf is clamoring to keep me safe, to lock me in his house. I add with a twist of humor “Besides, I don’t want to be woken up by people coming in to ask how you are doing.”

Bran inquires “And why would they be doing that?”

I raise my eyebrow “You figure it out. It’s your pack.” He hesitates, being stubborn. I add “The only wolves that are a threat to me here are Asil and Charles. Neither will go against your wishes. I’m perfectly safe.” I nod as if struck by an idea. “In fact, I’m going to go visit Asil. I have this feeling that Sage is probably with him.” I waltz out the door, waving to Samuel who is getting out of a car. I run to Asil’s house, as I didn’t get to run last night.

I slip into the greenhouse and start messing with the roses. Asil has an almost supernatural sense when someone is touching his precious flowers. Sure enough, he comes snarling in moments later. I back away from the plants, although the changes I made are done. He nips at my heels, suggesting that I get out of his greenhouse. I run lightly into the kitchen, almost tripping over Sage, who is also in wolf form. They slept curled around each other, from the scents, but nothing more. Asil is still being stubborn. As often as he mentions her, and the way she looks at him, they ought to be mates by now. I walk into the kitchen and start making breakfast. Asil just looks at me. I grin back at him “I know how to cook. I promise. I actually wanted to talk to Sage, but you get food too. Now go change so you can argue with me. I’m not doing charades today.” Asil snarls at me, but runs off. Sage looks at me curiously, but runs off too. I notice it is to a different bedroom, and I roll my eyes.

Fifteen minutes later I sit at the table eating a sausage off the end of my fork bit by bit. It will irritate Asil. He sits down and demands “Siren, what the hell are you doing here?” He goes on “And what happened to your table manners? I thought we trained that out of you.”

I grin “I’m a 21st century woman. I can eat as I please.”

Sage enters the room, bristling at our friendly tone. I turn to her “Great to see you, Sage. Just the person I wanted to talk to. You see, I have a request for you, on the suggestion of the Marrok.” Title dropping is a wonderful thing.

Sage scowls “What are you doing here, Sydney?”

I grin, my maniacal grin that makes people so suspicious. I allow the tension to build until Asil slaps the table, demanding “Spill it, Siren.” I address both of them equally, which will help Sage settle.

I begin “Well, Bran showed up at my doorstep with a bouquet of flowers. Beautiful roses, in fact.” I skip a few lines deliberately “I said yes.” I grin hugely, and wait for them to figure it out.

Sage understands before Asil “He asked you to marry him? Bran did?”

I exchange a secretive look with her “Absolutely.”

Asil looks stricken. "Sydney, I had no idea."

I smile, a real smile this time. "I am pleased. Who chose the roses?"

Asil replies "Bran picked the color, I arranged them." He doesn't have to explain that the thorns were Bran's choice. Asil would never leave thorns on roses, unless they contained poison. I checked. No poison.

Sage questions "Then why do you want to see me?"

I am pleased with my maneuvering. That is a perfect lead in. "I need a place to stay until the wedding. Bran recommended that I ask you."

Sage replies "I would be delighted to have you as my guest." Neither Asil not I point out that her statement smells perilously close to a lie.

I grin “Excellent. That is wonderful.”

Asil mutters under his breath. I can’t hear, but Sage smiles with delight, sending him another one of those intimate glances that he completely ignores. They are both too stubborn. We’ll have to see what I can do about that.

Bran invites me over for dinner. Surprisingly, he cooks. That is possibly a good thing. I can cook perfectly edible food, but no one has ever called it delicious.

Sage helps me move into her house. She has restored her cheerful, outgoing demeanor. I know it is a carefully cultivated shield, but she is very sincere. I respond in kind, being happy and helpful. In short time, we get all of my belongings moved into a small room in her home. We sit down to have some coffee and relax. Then the questions start. “Sydney, why does Asil keep calling you Siren?”

I nod, deciding to tell Sage more than I tell most. It will be helpful if she trusts me. “I used the name Siren as a title of sorts when he was in my pack.”

Sage frowns “Your pack? You mean you were mated to an Alpha before?”

I grin “No, I was the Alpha.”

She shakes her head “I thought that last year was the first time in history with a female Alpha.”

I shake my head “It isn’t. Granted, I didn’t go spreading around that I was the Alpha at the time Asil was in my pack. I would have had a great many assassins try to remove me. The culture was heavily patriarchal, but I couldn’t leave until the pack was in safe hands.” I add as an afterthought “I wasn’t the only female Alpha, either.”

Sage asks “Then why did girls stop fighting for alpha?”

I shrug “It’s easy to see how the human is affected by the wolf but hard to see how the wolf is affected by the person. And people are very heavily affected by cultural phenomena.”

Sage questions “Then why aren’t you?”

I question “What do you mean? I am the epitome of a 21st century woman.”

Sage looks disgusted “You were just telling me about the 15th century.”

I grin “I never said I born in the 21st century. I said I identified with it. I love English, with all of its vagaries and word trickery. There are words from so many languages.” My cell phone rings. The number says unidentified, but I know it is Bran. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

I reply quickly “With Sage, at her house.”

Bran sounds calm, but there is a growly undertone in his voice “Why does half the town think that you’ve bespelled me?”

I answer “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you asked me to marry you the second time you saw me? I believe there is something called a dating process that people expect these days.” He growls, but I talk over him. “Besides, I don’t know what my friends have been saying about me in my absence.”

“I would be delighted if you would come over for dinner tonight. Samuel is returning from the city with Ariana this afternoon, and Charles and Anna will also be over.”

I reply in kind “I too am delighted with your invitation. I’ll come over around 5:30?”

“That would be perfect. Sage, help Sydney find her way about the town today. Tomorrow you’ll take her shopping.” Bran hangs up.

I laugh as I close the phone. “I made it clear to him not to give me orders, so he just gives you orders to take me places. Where do you go shopping around here? I see trees, trees and a few rocks.”

Sage replies “We have prickly bushes and cliffs too. We shop at the mall in a nearby town. The selection isn’t great, but it is better that here. Come on,” She declares, jumping up “I’ll show you around town. My house is a few miles out of town, so we can drive if you want.”

I wince, replying “Walking is slightly preferred. Cars are not my favorite thing.”

Sage asks “Why?”

I shrug “I’m older than cars. I don’t really trust human drivers.”

Sage asks “Have you met Charles?”

I nod “Yes. He doesn’t like me. At all.”

“Why? He’s not a bad person, he just hides his emotions a lot.”

I reply “I know, but I kept deliberately ignoring him to talk to Anna. It bothered him a lot.”

“But you’re a female. He’s not bothered by other women talking to his mate.”

I grin “Sage, for all of my sweetness and joking manner, I am a threat. On my territory, with my pack behind me, you can bet Charles was feeling it.”

Sage questions “How dominant are you? I don’t feel much right now.” I stop walking, and stare at her, with the wolf in the front of my gaze. She meets my gaze for a second, maybe two before she drops her eyes.

I challenge “Believe me now?”

She bares her throat, and I nod, satisfied. I continue walking towards town. She follows. I had smelled her disbelief and skepticism earlier when I claimed to be Asil’s Alpha. I like to put that sort of thing to rest. I feel a hint of frustration with my wolf as I smell the fear and wariness on her. I was trying to win the girl over, not scare her. I will adapt my plans.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 9:

 

I head over to the Marrok’s house at the agreed upon time. He is cooking dinner himself. How unexpected. I start helping without being asked. Bran questions after a few minutes “Asil said you couldn’t cook.”

I laugh delicately “I’ve learned a few things since I last spent time with Asil. I can’t claim that the food I make is more than edible however.”

Bran frowns “Where did you learn to cook?”

I reply “They have cooking shows in China too. They are very informative.” Bran smiles, and my wolf jumps, happy to see him happy. I roll my eyes at my wolf. Well, not actually, but the emotion behind it is there. A few minutes later, Bran sighs. I ask “What’s on your mind?”

He tells me “It is concerning to me that my pack doesn’t trust my decisions.”

I reply sincerely “They trust your decisions, but they don’t trust me. You realize that you probably shouldn’t trust me either.”

He replies instantly “I trust you.”

I demand “Why? I won’t follow your orders.”

He snarls, annoyed at being questioned “I can trust whoever I want.”

I acquiesce “Certainly. But why do you trust me?”

He argues “It’s an instinct.”

“Perhaps, but then why doesn’t your pack trust me?”

“They’ll do as I say."

“Of course, but that isn’t the question at stake. Think on it, please.” I give him my winning smile, getting a hint of a smile in reply. His wolf is really much too volatile right now. I will have to watch my step. His wolf is a truly ferocious thing, and we aren’t mated yet. The doorbell rings. I glance at a clock. 6:00, right on time for dinner. Bran opens the door, and I move the food to the table. To a normal person, it might look like too much for a table of six, but we eat like wolves when we’re hungry.

Dinner is mostly polite talk, directed by the Marrok. Charles and Samuel both use the time to weigh and judge me and my reactions. Anna talks calmly, but it is her presence that allows the wolves to keep themselves in check. Ariana is getting more and more nervous throughout the meal. I feel a little bad, but then again, she could destroy us all if she chose. She isn’t completely over her reaction to wolves, and the tension in the room is stressful. As Anna and I clear the plates, I notice a set of signals being passed between Sam and Charles. When I reenter the room, Charles bumps into me. My wolf reacts to his being on edge, and we lock eyes. I feel Bran start to get up and Samuel puts a hand on his shoulder. Bran calms down a fraction, allowing me to focus on Charles. I smile, but it isn’t from happiness. It is a decidedly wolfish expression.

Charles declares “You’re holding a spell. I can feel it, it makes my wolf on edge.”

I allow “Is that why you have bumped into me? All wolves carry magic.” We are still holding eye contact, challenging the other’s strength. It is like one of those elementary school staring contests. Ariana blanches, and Anna pulls her away.

I call “Ari, what magic do I hold?”

She looks at me, analyzing with her power. “Glamour.” She replies with shock. “How did I not notice?”

I smile, replying “Glamour, and insight were all the gifts my mother had, for all of her fae blood. I inherited only a fraction of her power.” I clap my hands and change my glamour to the court-guise I wore for many years. It still fits like a second skin, with the flowing silver hair and perfect features without a hint of mercy, yet still decidedly feminine. Samuel hisses and takes a step back as I grow by six inches. I feel amusement from Bran. He has somehow deduced that these aren’t my real features. My gaze is still locked with Charles.

He snarls “You’re Fae, here to deceive.”

I retort “I’m a werewolf, here to get married.” Samuel and Ariana are muttering in the corner.

Ariana declares “That is still a glamour, Sydney.”

I break eye contact with Charles to salute her. “It takes a certain frame of mind to deduce that, doesn’t it, Great Lady?” I switch languages on the last two words. Charles is snarling behind me. I decide to finish my performance. I clap my hands together, and drop the glamour altogether. I give a twirl, as befits my natural appearance. I know that the twirl causes my glittering, obsidian hair to swirl out in a circle and settle over my shoulder. I fill my features with mischievousness, as suited by their almost childlike nature. The tips of my ears are delicately pointed, just appearing out of my hair. Not the giant pointed ears like cartoons of the greater fae, but a smaller version of those portrayed by that Vulcan of some TV show. I know I appear young, no more than 17, and probably closer to 15. I use my most winsome smile and look around, suddenly shorter than the rest of the room. I accent that difference and drop into a chair, looking up at Bran “Can we have dessert now? I know there are delicious cookies somewhere.”

He laughs, amused by my performance. He sits down in the chair next to mine, taking my hand in his and kissing it. “Absolutely, dearest.” The tension in the room drains out, the werewolf situation taken care of, for now, by Bran’s glare to Charles. If Charles isn’t happy with me here, it will be a very long time before he changes his mind. He’s a stubborn wolf if I ever saw one.

Ariana laughs delightedly “You’re The Siren.”

Samuel mutters “I told you that already.”

Ariana retorts “I didn’t realize you meant The Siren.” She turns back to me “I thought you would have more magic?”

I shake my head “I have only ever had a little bit of magic from the earth. My speed and threat come from the wolf, not my fae blood.”

Samuel asks “What can you do with your magic?”

I shrug “Not much. When tied into pack bonds and on my territory, I can feel footsteps on the earth. I can do enough earth magic to upset Asil’s roses, but gardening isn’t really my thing.”

Anna adds “Asil claims that a bad mood will upset his roses.”

I shrug “I don’t argue with Asil on his roses, dominant or not.”  This gets laughter from around the table, although Anna is still unsteady. I’m not sure she has seen glamour shifts before. Maybe she has. The evening finishes, with Charles still unhappy and Anna confused. Samuel and Ari are content, or not worried. Bran is focused on me, and we talk for a while before I return to Sage’s house.

 

Chapter 10:

 

**POV-Asil**

 

Siren’s voice slips into my head “Asil, you might want to send Anna to Bran. He is unhappy right now.” I drop the pruning shear I was holding, catching it a second before it lands on my toe.

Sage looks over and asks “Asil, what happened?”

I reply “Call Anna. She needs to go help Bran.” Sage calls and hands me the phone. I talk “Anna, Bran is driving down the main road of town right now. I want you to go talk to him, he may need help.”

Anna asks “Why?” I know she is heading there now, as I have the ability to feel where my pack mates are.

I reply “When Sydney orders, one can obey or pay the consequences. When she suggests something, it means disaster is imminent for someone else.”

Anna interrupts “I see Bran. He’s in a fine mood. Questions later, Asil.” She hangs up the phone.

Sage demands “How did you know? You aren’t linked to Sydney anymore.”

I wince as I try to explain “She’s able to speak directly into a few people’s minds.”

“Like Bran?”

I shake my head “No, no. Bran can give an order to any wolf. I don’t know what his constraints are, perhaps he only needs the pack bond. Sydney can only talk to a few people, but we can reply if she holds the connection open. It is hard to explain. She claims it is based on how she knows the person and how open their mind is.”

Sage asks “Why can she talk to you?”

I shrug “We have known each other for centuries? She says my mind isn’t particularly open, whatever that is supposed to mean. I don’t question her too much on it.” I go back to gardening; sure Anna can take care of the situation.

When I return to my house after Sage has left to go home, I see Bran sitting at my kitchen table. I sigh and put the tea kettle on. I sit down and wait for Bran to start.

Bran orders “Asil, you are going to answer my questions fully and honestly, clear?”

I reply “I understand. I will endeavor to do so as you command.”

Bran looks at me skeptically but asks “Did you know Sydney wears a glamour?”

I answer “Yes, I only recognized her from the eyes.”

“Why?”

“She can’t glamour those. Her abilities do not extend that far, but she has three true eye colors.”

Bran nods, satisfied “Blue, green and purple. What does she look like unglamoured?”

I reply “Young, really young but a woman. I would say about fifteen. Black hair, and features that could be human if not for her ethereal beauty. Pointed ears, I think.”

Bran challenges “you think?”

I shrug, thickening my accent “I only saw her without a glamour when she was very badly injured. She was conserving magic for healing.”

Bran asks in shocked tones “She can heal?”

I reply “Only those she has shared blood with. Something about her earth magic requiring blood.” I decide to put forward a question. “What has she done?”

Bran catches me in a direct glare “How did you know I was upset this afternoon?”

I answer truthfully “Sydney called me and requested that I send Anna.”

“She ordered you?”

“No. It is dangerous to disobey her orders, but foolish to ignore her suggestions.”

“Meaning?”

“When she orders, either you or her is about to get blown up. When she suggests, you ignore her and watch everything else get blown to bits. Sydney doesn’t suggest like that very often.”

Bran nods, “Her magic requires blood?” His tone is deceptively calm, as Bran has a long standing hatred of black witches.

I try to answer honestly “It isn’t black magic at all. Sacrifice is required for power in witchcraft. I am not terribly good at sensing power, but I think it is tied to the earth.”

“What does she do to cast a spell?”

I reply “She doesn’t do spells much. She’s only touched runes once or twice that I know of, and those were simple warding spells. You know, safety and security, all of that. What she does do, and this isn’t a spell necessarily…”

Bran growls “Spit it out, Asil.”

“She will feed the earth her blood and get a magical response of some sort. She’ll simply channel it. Mind you, I’ve only seen this once when she was healing herself and a packmate, and she was bleeding all over the place. The power came from the earth. It was nothing like witchcraft, Bran. I am familiar with witchcraft.”

Bran acknowledges my statement with a tilt of his head then demands “What does she have against wedding dresses?”

I wince “What color does she want to wear this time?”

Bran just looks at me, and I drop my eyes. He declares “Teal. A bright, ugly teal color. I’m not even sure what color teal is. Why won’t she wear white like a bride is supposed to?”

I shrug, replying “When she wears white, the groom ends up dead within a year. It’s a good thing, Bran.”

“She didn’t strike me as the superstitious type.”

I wince again, “It’s not superstition, it’s a fact.”

“She’s killed men she marries?”

“She is called the Siren for a reason.” I tease “Having second thoughts?”

Bran shakes his head “No, but I should be. Thanks, Asil.”

I pause, deciding whether or not to give a bit of friendly advice. Bran gets up and starts walking away. I call “Bran, don’t say that to her.”

“Say what?”

“Thank you. She is fae enough to take it as a debt if she did so chose.” He simply shakes his head and walks out the door.

 

Chapter 11:

 

**Siren**

 

Bran and I are going for a drive in the mountains. Well, we are driving until we are away from town, and then I suspect we will walk. Bran starts the conversation “Asil explained why you didn’t want to wear white to our wedding.”

I raise my eyebrow “What explanation did he give?” I am quite curious.

“Something about you killing a few of your former husbands.” Asil gave the real explanation then. What is the fun of keeping secrets if your former second spills them all? I pause dramatically, waiting for the next statement. “Is that true?”

I shrug “I am the Siren.”

Bran looks suspicious “Can you lie?”

“Yes.”

“Can you speak a lie?” There are many ways to lie, speech is only one of them.

I grin at the rephrasing, answering “No.”

“Did you kill any of your former husbands? Yes or no answer, please.”

I lean back, replying “You learn quickly, or you’ve dealt with fae before. My guess would be on the latter.”

“Answer the question.” I enjoy watching the tension and the rage ripple beneath Bran’s calm façade.

“Yes, I killed a couple of my husbands. One was self-defense, and the other was downright rotten.” 

“Were you planning on killing me?” A dangerous question if I ever heard one.

“I was not planning on it, no.”

“Did the thought cross your mind?”

“Can I plead the fifth? I’m an American citizen, I bought the paperwork.”

Bran shakes his head, pulling the car over “You bought the paperwork?”

I add, in my most reasonable tone “And fabricated the rest.” We get out of the car, Bran offering me his arm. I let him lead, it is his territory.

“Sydney,” he asks “would you please drop the glamour when we are alone? I want to see the real you.” I tilt my head, considering his request. I had not expected such a request so soon. My glamour is made to appear like a human, a normal person. But my other, true face is almost girlish. I glance at Bran. He looks no more than 18. Actually, with this face on, I look considerably older.  More like 25 or so. I allow my glamour to fall between one breath and the next. Bran smiles, just slightly “No theatrics?” he asks lightly.

I laugh; it’s a beautiful sound when I choose it to be. “The theatrics were fun, but not necessary.”

“And the showdown with Charles a few nights ago?”

I shrug “He started it.” I let mischief come across my features. I feel his pulse spike under my hand, and I know his control is slipping. I laugh again, and Bran stops to pull me towards him, into a passionate kiss. It is a week before the full moon, or else I would be more concerned.  I skip back after a few seconds and let out a wild, high laugh, allowing my more wild nature to come forward. I dance through the trees, on inhumanly silent feet, a clear invitation to play. Bran pauses for half a second, his eyes turning gold and returning to brown, and then chases after me through the trees. He has the advantage of familiar territory, but I have a head start. I run fast and skillfully, but I can’t shake him long enough to set a trap. It will have to be an ambush then. I look for a good spot, and find it at the top of a pile of rocks. I clamber up the side quickly, before Bran comes in sight. I hide on top an overhang. Once Bran crosses beneath, I drop down on him silently. He spins around, trying to dislodge me, and then snarls, pinning me against the rock. His whole body is pushed up against me in another passionate kiss. I match his fire with my own, and am rewarded by watching his eyes flicker to yellow for a long moment. His eyes finally settle at an in-between shade, a murky brown. He pulls back after a long moment, breathing heavily from the adrenaline “Sydney, you wouldn’t believe what you are doing to my control right now. I need to take a minute and get my wolf back under control; I don’t want you to get hurt.” He still thinks I am delicate. That is why I don’t use this face. I reach for the wolf, suffusing my slim frame with predatory intent. Bran takes a step back, just slightly.

We hover there for just a second, and then I declare “Run, I’m going to catch you.” I deliver the line mockingly with challenge, and Bran snarls then jumps over my head onto the overhang. I follow, and the chase is on again.

 

We return to the truck sometime later, and Bran growls at his phone. I snatch it from him, glancing at the screen. Charles is asking him where he is. I glance at Bran, tap the icon that says Charles and glance at his number. Bran says “No he doesn’t usually check up on me in the middle of the day.” I add Charles into my phone as a contact, and text him that Bran is with me. Bran is amused at my subtle claiming, but he warns “Don’t annoy Charles, alright? He is genuinely concerned for me. He is my son.” I give him a skeptical glance, but slide into the driver’s seat of his car. Bran asks “What are you doing?”

I reply “Driving” as I turn the key in the ignition. Bran quickly gets in the passenger side.

A few minutes later he asks “Do you know how to drive?” I did hit a rock with the wheel fairly hard a few minutes ago.

I reply “I’ve never driven a truck before, it’s fun.” I see a car approaching down the road and pull my glamour on. It is Tag. Bran gives him a friendly wave, and we continue down the mountain. Bran’s phone buzzes a bunch of times, so he looks at it. His scent changes to that of frustration, so I ask “What happened?”

He sighs “A lone wolf attacked three people in broad daylight on a hiking trail. There were witnesses, and two of them are in the hospital.”

I ask “The other is dead?” Bran nods. I question “Whose territory?”

He replies “Neutral territory.” He glances at his phone again “But it is near Adam’s pack.” If I remember correctly, Adam is Mercy the coyote’s mate. He is out to the public.

I reply “You’ll send someone to handle the wolf, probably Charles, and have Adam handle the publicity so the hunt is without distraction. A well-placed suggestion to the press would land them right on Adam’s doorstep.”

Bran looks amused “Is that what you think I do?” I just smile. Bran calls Charles on the phone “Charles, meet me at my house in,” he glances at the road “15 minutes. I have a job for you.” He hangs up the phone.

I comment “Life of an Alpha. A good one anyway.”

“What is?”

“Constant, incessant, irritating interruptions that must be addressed properly.”

“I would agree. I hope you don’t take offense?”

I sigh “Of course not. The situation needs addressing, but I feel the need to help.”  
Bran nods “Alpha instincts, yes, I know.” We share a look. With the quick glance, I feel a strengthening in our relationship. My wolf wants to be bonded now, but we will wait. A mating bond is a complicated tie. Bran and I do not fully trust each other, and the bond won’t happen until that happens. As we are both suspicious and prone to deception, it could take some time. But my instincts say to keep him, to trust him.

When we reach my house, I get out of the truck after a goodbye kiss. Bran quickly slides to the driver’s seat and leaves. I pause a second, looking after him, and then enter Sage’s house.

 

Chapter 12:

 

Sage and I were having a nice quiet, uneventful dinner until she asks “Can you tell me about Asil, please?”

I reply “You know him already. What else would you like to know?”

“What was he like, back when you had him in your pack?”

“You ask lightly of the old days, Sage.”

“I just want to understand him better.”

“Ask him yourself.”

“I don’t want to hurt him. I know he suffered greatly from losing Sarai.”

I shrug “He moved away when he mated with Sarai.”

“Why?” Sage sounds confused.

“She was Omega. He wanted to protect her.”

“Wouldn’t a pack be safer then?”

I stare at her intently. She drops her eyes. I reply in a perfect imitation of Asil’s accent “That certainly depends on the pack, doesn’t it, _chica_?” I use my normal voice, challenging “You are far too young for him, you know.” She snarls at me, meeting my eyes now. I nod, as if that confirms my next thought, adding “And, I think, far too weak besides. You couldn’t handle him.”

“You’re wrong.”

I laugh harshly, a tone used to infuriate “I’m not wrong. If you could handle him, why haven’t you claimed him? He’s too much for you to deal with, so you run. You run far away and hide.” Dominant werewolves, like Sage, never take well to being accused of being cowards.

“That isn’t true! You take that back.”

I mock “Then why don’t you go to him? Waiting for him to make the first move, silly child?” She snarls wordlessly. I meet her eyes with my best scornful expression. I am more dominant, but she refuses to submit, eventually spinning and running out the door. I call “Coward. You can’t even face me. How do you hope to ever claim him?” I hear the car start and I sit back, pleased with myself. I finish my dinner.

I am sitting on a chair, reading a book I stole out of Bran’s library. He has quite a good collection. The door opens, and Anna comes in. I scent her, but do not have enough time to brace myself before her Omega presence washes over me. She is strong, even stronger than Sarai was. She comes in and sits in the chair across from me. I smile ridiculously as I feel my wolf recede completely. I am Omega-drunk again. I hate the feeling, but I can’t bring myself to worry about it right now.

“What did you do to Sage?”

I giggle, a sound I would never make sober. “She will run to Hussan now. Tears are all that is needed now.”

“Who, what?”

I elaborate, the little voice of reason whispering to shut up, but I ignore it. “Hussan, my second he was. The Moor is his title, pretentious as it is. And now I have the house to myself.” I grin, barely aware of the tears rolling down my face.

“What is wrong with you?”

I giggle again, hiccupping. I will despise myself in the morning. “I’m Omega-drunk. Uber dominant or something else, I don’t know, but vulnerable I am, to you, clever Anna.”

She snorts in disgust, and gets up to leave. But I don’t want the fuzziness to end. “Stay, stay, stay, sweet Anna. You, joy, me bring.” I giggle again. “Questions, you also too, could ask, and receive answers strange, for drunk I am, but still cannot lie, not I.”

“Why are you talking like Yoda?”

“Methinks, I can nae tell. English, my language is not, although several variations of it I know.”

“Your accent is fluctuating as well. Why did you come to Aspen Creek?”

“Bride I am, to be. Prophetess of Tears say choose a side. Winter and war is coming. Power shall be mine as well.”

“You seek power?”

“And a mate. A mate always seek, I do.”

 “Do you care about us at all?”

“My pack cherish, I do always.”

“Do you love Bran or is marriage about something else?” The persistent voice of reason in my head tells me to shut up.

“Him, treasure, will I.” I giggle and add “Cute he is, is it not?”

“Absolutely. You know, you are much easier to deal with this way.”

“Compliment, I take as. Enjoy this I do. But in morning, terrible shame. You be danger in.”

 “Why?”

“Omega dangerous. Omega run. Perhaps not, safety of yours lies with strong Mate. Dangerous situation for me, do I not think?”

“What do you mean?” My coherence is obviously disappearing.

“Mate strong, protect you will he. But him I beat, perhaps if advantage of sort some. But Bran no agree. Bran no like death of son. Bran, he you does cherish, for Omega good for pack. Omega heal pack, make pack survive time. But your safety in mate of yours be. His safety also in you. Together strong. Apart, you be killed, he destroy self of his with murder incessant. Slow but death gradual, like water on rock. Hard strong rock yes, but water win yet. You heal him. But danger to me be you.” I giggle helplessly, knowing I am nearly incoherent.

Anna looks speculative. “So you are still trying to protect me from you?”

“Dominant be I, even drunk as a hatter mad.” I collapse on the ground, and I could swear I hear a snore even before I fall asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 13:

 

I wake up in the morning cursing. I have a hangover. It quickly fades as I start moving around, but the shadow of pain lingers. I start considering ways to kill Anna as I make breakfast. I almost don’t notice Bran sitting on the chair in the living room. I drop a bowl of cereal from above his head. He catches it flawlessly, as I had expected. I sit down across from him and pour milk into my own bowl and toss him the container without the lid on. He catches it, but a little bit of milk splashes on him, and I smile. He smiles in return, but sobers and asks “Are you…”

I interrupt “I’m fine. I’m probably not even going to kill the sweet wolf.”

“Probably?”

I shrug “Too complicated and messy. How was my grammar?”

“Anna was laughing. She said you sounded like Yoda.”

“Who’s Yoda?”

Bran looks shocked and then starts laughing. A real laugh. “You’ll have to see the movies. It is space Cowboys vs. Indians, but the Indians win.”

I raise an eyebrow “Sounds entertaining.”

“So what did you do to Sage? She and Asil have finally mated. Anna said you were to blame for Sage being upset.”

I grin smugly “I thought so. I pricked her pride, hurt her a bit. Actually, I expect her to come after me at some point today.”

Bran questions “What did you say to her?”

I smile secretively “Specifics are between me and her. Basically I just pushed her buttons a bit, enough to enrage the wolf, not enough to scare the person. I think she went straight to Asil’s. He could never resist tears in a woman.”

“The Moor would snarl at weakness.”

“Not in those he cares about. He is a dominant werewolf, and Sage isn’t helpless. They were afraid of hurting each other, you know.”

Bran looks thoughtful “I thought he was still mourning Sarai.”

I reply “Something happened recently with their witch-daughter to resolve it. Enough time had gone by.”

“You knew them back then?” Nothing more than surprise crosses Bran’s expression, but I sense real shock.

“I was banned from their house after counseling Asil to kill the child. Sarai forbid it and banned me from the house. I had been an infrequent visitor. I met Asil again, years ago, and he was haunted by his daughter, although she should have been dead by then. Our paths separated again, and I did not meet him again until a few months ago.”

Bran’s eyes fasten on me, and I feel chills roll up my spine. He demands “When do you want to get married?”

I tease “Sometime in the next year, I think.” He sets his bowl aside, and I do the same. He starts to move towards me, intent on my face, but the door slams open and Asil comes in. I scent Sage all over him. Bran looks annoyed, then does his vanishing act where he hides his dominance. I stand to face Asil, locking eyes with him.

He snarls “Why did you hurt her?”

I reply calmly “I didn’t harm a hair on her head.”

“I trusted you in her house.”

“She came to no harm. One could even say that she benefited tremendously from a short period of being emotionally distraught.”

“You don’t care for her.”

“I approve tremendously, or else I wouldn’t have sent her to you.”

Asil pauses for a second, and that allows him to think. He curses me “ _Tu eres una Punta._ ” A Bitch, I am apparently. He drops his eyes and swirls out the door in a cloud of shimmering rage.

I grin and drop back into my chair.

Bran asks “Why did he leave your pack?”

I sigh “It is a long story. He left shortly after he met Sarai. He was, and still is, a romantic fool. He doesn’t want to be Alpha, but his protective streak is a mile wide. He just doesn’t like consequences.”

Bran asks “Would a month be too soon?”

I pause as I try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Yes, a month would be fine for the wedding, as long as you don’t expect too many theatrics.”

“I think I can manage without the theatrics.” We sit together in companionable silence.

“Do you prefer Sydney or Siren? What was your first name, if you don’t mind my asking?”

I grin “I will perhaps tell you that in time, but not now. I have outgrown that name. Truly, Sydney is a better name for me right now. The Siren was my name among the Fae courts. I didn’t mean for it to become my most well-known name, but it did. I’m not really the Siren anymore. But I can resurrect the identity easily.”

“Meaning what?”

I check the ground around me with my senses. There is no one around. I pull myself up to height, and keep going, sliding into my most seductive glamour. In this glamour, I have pure white hair, young and fresh that frames my absolutely perfect features. My age is not apparent, because all of my features are as perfect as I can make them, except for a tiny mark on my jaw line. I draw on my wolf just a hint, turning my eyes green and bringing with it very seductive posture. I smile, even that smile comes out seductively through this glamour. I watch Bran’s pulse speed up. He growls “Stop it.” I raise an eyebrow. He rephrases “I would be greatly pleased if you would stop doing that.” I will get him trained, eventually. I drop the glamour with a snap, settling into my real form, and allowing my eyes to return to blue. Bran asks, to distract himself “I thought you couldn’t change your eye color?”

“I can’t glamour my eyes. Most fae can, but not me. You can change your eye color too, Bran, from Brown to Gold and back.” 

“Why did your eyes go to green while you used the glamour and return after?”

I smile. It is a normal smile this time. “I use my various natures to influence my glamour. When I change my glamour, I usually pull the wolf closer or push it farther away. My fae nature, also. It makes my glamour more believable and complete.”

“So you smoothly transition between different personalities?”

“Not at the beginning, but now, yes. And you?”

Bran nods “I slide back and forth, yes.”

I push “And have telepathy?”

“One-way only.”

I nod “You can send, but not receive. Convenient for an Alpha.”

“Absolutely. Are you still determined on wearing teal?” He is trying to surprise another answer out of me.

I grin sneakily “I don’t know, orange might be better. Although I did like the red wedding dresses in China.” We plan the wedding for a while, thinking up various ridiculous wedding traditions. After a while, neither of us can tell when the other is joking. I think we settled on a simple ceremony, although there may or may not be doves.

 

Chapter 14:

 

The full moon comes and goes. I am to be mated with Bran at the next full moon ceremony, and the church wedding will be the next day. But the full moon brought disaster to the Blue Lake pack. We are not sure what happened, but there are at least two factions, and outsiders are being hurt. The death toll is three wolves, and at least two humans. Bran is talking to Charles in his office. I am sitting downstairs by the fire. Charles stalks out, looking annoyed, although most wouldn’t be able to read his micro expressions. He brushes by me and goes to the kitchen. Bran calls “Sydney? Can you get up here?”

I bounce up the stairs “Yes, dearest?” I blow him a kiss. He catches it and presses it to his heart.

But then his tone comes out serious “I am send…” He pauses and rephrases “I would like it if you would go to help Charles resolve the situation with the Blue Lake Pack.”

I sit on the chair and lean forward “Why?”

“The situation is delicate, and there are numerous factions. Charles is strong, but I’m not sending alone him to face down a great number of enemies. I would send Samuel, but he is not here. Asil would normally be my next choice, but your machinations have made it unwise to send him so soon after being mated.”

I nod, hearing what he is not saying. “I’ll go. Are you sending anyone else?” It will be an opportunity to try to bring things to peace with Charles.

“No, subtlety and good thinking will solve this situation. Besides, if I send non-dominant wolves, they will simply get recruited. The Alpha was more dominant, but his second and third were very close to his strength.”

I nod “So if the Alpha was injured, the second or third could break the bonds.”

“Potentially. There could be a splinter faction, and the leadership could be intact. You probably should be discussing this with Charles on the plane.”

I give a mock salute “See you soon, Mister Marrok.”

Charles glares at me as I enter the kitchen. I say “Oh dear, you aren’t happy with me right now. Yes, I’m going. It is a good idea.”

He nods brusquely and turns for the car. I follow just close enough to snatch the keys out of his pocket. When we get to the car I hold them up in the air “Would you like to drive, or shall I?”

He snarls “I hate cars.”

I slip into the driver seat and start the car. If I stay quiet, he might speak. It isn’t my favorite interrogation technique, but Bran favors it. Charles is probably conditioned to it. I wait. Charles calms down, fraction by fraction. Finally he sighs “It isn’t that I wish to be rude,” That statement is invariably followed by something incredibly rude. “But I don’t like the idea of going into an uncertain situation with someone I don’t trust at my back.”

I allow “You don’t trust me, and you are perfectly justified in doing so. Do you trust your father?”

“Absolutely.”

“Trust his judgment on this, then. Or do you not trust his judgment in matters of the heart?”

Charles looks faintly incredulous. His expressions are hard to catch. “His last mate, Leah.”

Charles is certainly a man of few words. I prompt “I heard a few things about her, but I never met her.”

“She was bitter.”

“Montana wasn’t to her liking?”

“No.”

Perhaps a direct question will work. “Why?”

“You’re manipulative.” He didn’t answer the question.

“Your father is also.”

“But I trust him.”

I nod. “Then it will take time. No other solution.” I stay silent. We don’t exchange any more words until we get on the plane.

Charles sits in the pilot’s seat and raises and eyebrow just slightly when I sit in the copilot seat.

“Can you fly?”

I reply “Of course. I learned in WW2.” He glances at me, then starts the take-off procedure. I go through the motions with him, proving my ability to fly. Or at least take off. The landing is always the tricky part.  After we get up in the air I ask “What is our plan?”

He asks “Do you know the players?”

I reply “I did do my research.” He gives me a look so I prove it “The Alpha, George, is an older dominant wolf. The second, Jared, and the Third, Orlando, are close to him in dominance, but are both fairly young. I don’t know them personally. There is also supposed to be a submissive wolf, Seth. The pack usually meets at the Alpha’s house, as it is big, although I don’t know that for certain. The Alpha has a human mate.”

“Correct. I know George, and he isn’t likely to lose control of his pack unless something happened. He is old fashioned, but strong.”

“How old fashioned?”

“Not too bad, in comparison to others.”

“So what is the plan?”

“We’ll rent a car and head to George’s house. If he’s there, we’ll see what we can find out. If not, we’ll get a hotel room and sort out the situation in the morning.”

I nod “I like this plan. Simple and effective.”

Perhaps two hours later we are pulling up the long wooded driveway to George’s house when I hear a gun fire. I speed up and spin around a corner as I hear a window shatter from bullets. I unclick my seatbelt and roll out as Charles does the same on the other side. We immediately freeze, listening. There is rapid gunfire from the road, an automatic weapon of some sort. It shreds the car. The rental company is not going to be happy. Charles and I move away and lie behind a log ten feet away. I smell blood, so I whisper “You okay?”

“Just a scratch. I’ll go left?” I nod and we move out. I can clearly hear the two distinct sets of semi-automatics. I slink around, hiding under the brush and moving silently.

There is a pause in the gun fire and somebody yells “Wait, whose car is that?”

I circle behind the ditch where a red-haired wolf is aiming a machine gun at the car. I jump down and choke him quickly, not snapping his neck. A friend comes out of the trees, swinging a silver knife. I jump back and grab his wrist, forcing the knife into the ground. I throw him into his buddy, who is just starting to wake up. I pin them both with my dominant glare. “Why the hell were you shooting at me?” They both quickly look down so they’re fairly low in pack rank.

“We were under orders to shoot any wolf coming up that driveway, Ma’am.”

“Whose orders would those be, hmm?” They clam up as I become aware of a presence in the trees behind me. It is Charles, who is carrying a body. I think it’s still alive. The two wolves in front of me start trembling and I can smell the scent of their fear. I shoot an amused look at Charles. He has quite the rep.

He growls “Answer her question.”

“Our Alpha told us to defend the property from invading wolves, unless they had his girl.”

I clarify “Your Alpha is George?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Charles growls “You are going to lead us to George right now. No tricks.”

We enter the house carefully. Charles looks at me and flicks his eyes at the wolves. I nod. I’ll stay with the wolves and see what, if anything I can find. He’ll go talk to George. I talk to the wolves, but they don’t know much. George is hurt, but they don’t know how bad. The Second and Third are in a disagreement, and they were protecting their Alpha. They have almost no helpful information. They say a disagreement happened in the yard the night of the full moon when their Alpha was injured.

Charles comes down the stairs and snarls at them “If you move before I come back, I’ll scalp you.” They shrink back, stinking of fear once more.

I say simply “Backyard.” Charles nods. We walk out the back door. I breathe in sharply, and see Charles do the same. He has Native American magic. I wonder what the spirits whisper to him?

He glances at me, asking “What does your magic say?”

I glance at and roll my sleeve up. I got nicked by a bullet, not a serious wound, but enough to draw blood. I squeeze my fist and let a few drops roll to the ground and I sink to my knees and place my hands on the earth. They sink in a few inches. I shudder as I feel the aftereffects of blood on the earth. “The Earth has drunk deeply of blood. Three wolves died here, one tastes of salt, and three mortals as well. The Mother mourns a human female who stepped between feuding wolves and died. She had a child.” I withdraw from the earth as my wound heals completely, commenting “There are bodies buried over there. It looks like the yard is set up for a change ceremony.”

Charles nods “It is. What is your magic?”

I shrug “Fae magic, wolf  magic? I know not. It is of less importance than the issue at hand.”

Charles raises an eyebrow “This was definitely supposed to be a Change ceremony. The Alpha’s human mate is dead, although he believes she is alive. Once he accepts her death, he could die. It looks like the Alpha got hit by a car or something really big and heavy.”

I ask “So what happened? A change ceremony was taking place, the Alpha got hurt and lost control of the pack resulting in multiple casualties?”

Charles nods “That looks most likely.”

I nod “I think we need to find the submissive as well as the Second and Third. The wolves here are taking orders from their Alpha, but almost all of the more dominant wolves are missing if I read this correctly.”

Charles nods to agree with my assessment “It’s a mess.”

I glance at the sun “We have about four hours of daylight left. How do you wish to proceed?”

Charles grunts “Let’s see if we can get contact information for other pack members. Then we’ll find the keys to a car. Ours got trashed.” I nod and we head back into the house. There is a convenient sheet of numbers taped next to the phone and car keys in a drawer. Charles gives the wolves a parting order “Don’t be stupid. Stay on the property and don’t shoot anyone unless they show you harm first. Clear?” The wolves all nod, heads to the ground.

I write my number on a piece of paper “Call me if there is a pressing problem.”

Charles drives, despite his professed hatred of cars. He wants me to make the calls. Wolves tend to run when he calls. As he knows, I am better at coaxing wolves. I call the Second and Third, getting voicemail both times. I call Seth, the submissive, last.

“Who is this?”

I reply “I’m Sydney. The Marrok became aware of a problem in the pack. We are trying to find a solution, but we are sorely lacking in information.”

“I’m no longer pack here.”

“Your help would be appreciated. If you could meet us at the hotel, we could facilitate finding you a new pack if that is what you desire. We need your information, and we’ll make sure you come to no harm.”

He pauses, but I have catered to his nature. “I’ll meet you there.”

“30 minutes, come and don’t be late.” I allow a hint of an order into my voice. We aren’t in the same pack, but lone wolves and submissives are very easily manipulated. Seth is now both.

 

Chapter 15:

 

Charles and I set up the conference room. He has decided to let me take the lead coaxing information out of Seth. It will be his job to frighten the more dominant wolves later. By now I am sure they need scaring. If the submissive decided to leave, there is an issue with the pack.

I sit down in the comfy chair at the head of the table in the conference room. Seth will enter the room to my right, making it comfortable for him but giving me a slight advantage. Not that I need an advantage to deal with a submissive. Charles lounges in the background of the room, his dominance mostly hidden. At precisely the correct time, Seth knocks on the open door. I beckon him in. I introduce myself “Hello, I’m Sydney.” He sits and we shake hands. “So please, tell me what is going on here. My friend and I,” I indicate Charles so that he can be easily sent aside, “Went to your previous Alphas house and found him to be terribly injured and not healing properly. Did his mate die?”

“Ella died, yes. She wasn’t as strongly bonded to him as a werewolf would have been, but she felt his pain when he was injured. She stepped between Jared and Orlando. She was a very good Alpha’s mate, for a human.” Seth looks choked up.

I ask “What happened between Jared and Orlando?”

Seth shrugs “They were suspicious of each other. Both wanted to be Alphas, but I didn’t think either was capable of murdering him to get the position.” He laughs scornfully “They used to be friends.”

I ask on the prompting of my instincts “Who killed Ella?”

“I don’t know. It was dark, and everything was confused with the change ceremony.”

I coax “You must have a suspicion.”

“It could have been Jared, or Orlando, but probably a third wolf.”

Charles asks softly “Who is after Orlando?”

Seth shrugs “It used to be Leon, but he died shortly after being defeated by Denis.”

“Why were Jared and Orlando fighting?” I have a suspicion, but it is good to ask.

“They both claimed the other hurt our Alpha. He hasn’t been too popular lately. He was losing it before his mated died, but he couldn’t have been defeated in challenge for a few years yet.” It is almost classic. A wolf betrays the alpha, and accuses another. The trick will be getting all of the players in the same room and asking the right questions. The situation is much messier than we had supposed.

I ask “Is there any other information you know? Locations would be nice.”

Seth shrugs. He seems to use that expression a lot. “I don’t know. I think Orlando is holed up with his group in a cabin in the woods, and Jared is in a house in the town. They are avoiding each other, but there have been a few fights between the different parties.”

I inquire “All the wolves are alive though?”

Seth shrugs again “They aren’t fighting to kill. That is what seems strange.”

Charles grumbles “Why?”

Seth looks down immediately “I don’t know.”

I coax “You must have a guess.”

“I’m not convinced that either of them did it. I think it was Denis. I’ve always had a bad feeling about him.” I nod reassuringly. Seth glances around “I want to get out of here.”

I ask “Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t know, somewhere pretty?”

I smile gently “I’ll forward your request for relocation. I’m sure there are many packs that would be happy to have a submissive wolf. Is there any particular reason you wish to move?”

Seth shrugs “Not everyone is nice.” Not nice can mean a great range of things is a werewolf, from snarling to abusive. I’ll follow up on that later, after Seth trusts me more. If someone has hurt him, they need a few words or more. I know it’s just my instincts clamoring to protect the submissive, but instincts are good.

My phone rings “Hello?”

“He’s lost it. We’re being called…” He pauses to gasp for breath. I hear bones cracking and shifting. “To be wolf…” he gasps for air “His wolf is unchained. I” gasp “can’t resist the call.” There is only a gradual whine and finally a howl in the distance before the line goes dead.

Seth looks frightened “That was Ralph. I think the Alpha has lost control and called the remainders of his pack. He probably only has the less dominant wolves left.”

I agree “It seems so. I think we need to head out there now. Find George before he kills anyone. If his wolf is out, it won’t be a pretty sight. He’s old enough to go on a frenzy.”

Charles pins Seth with his gaze “Where is his preferred hunting ground?”

Seth shuts down under Charles’s harsh gaze. I’m not sure Charles understands how imposing he really is. Seth squeaks “He likes the woods just south of town, but we can’t go there much because of all the people during the evening.”

I glance outside “It’s evening now. Let’s go. Seth, stay here. Rent a room or stay in our room and we’ll rent another when we get back. Let’s go.” Charles and I get up. I toss a room key at Seth, just in case. We head out to the car and I slide behind the wheel.

Charles asks “Why didn’t you have him help us? He is an old wolf and can probably fight.”

I laugh “He’s a submissive. He wants out. A reluctant fighter on your side is worse than two enemies any day. Maybe he can fight, but he doesn’t want to. As a submissive, he won’t be able to gather the bloodlust to fight a much more dominant wolf. Besides, George doesn’t have more than five or six wolves with him.”

Charles raises an eyebrow “We are only two wolves.”

I laugh, feeling the excitement before battle rushing through me. I think they call it adrenaline. I reply with an amused tone “With your reputation, there should be no issue whatsoever.”

He scowls “Why are you so certain? You’ve never seen me fight.”

I shoot back “If the goal was to kill them all, I could manage it on my own. You are supposed to be a competent fighter; therefore you will be able to take George while I hold off the other five. Once George is subdued, the fight should be over. His madness is the problem, not murderous intent.”

“Are you certain of that?”

“You were in the room with him. You tell me.”

Charles sighs “Yes, I could smell the faint beginnings of insanity.”

I shrug “His mate died. His pack lies broken. He won’t follow, he’s been Alpha for too long.”

Charles frowns “You are saying that the best thing to do is to kill him?”

I nod “There is no better option. We cannot leave him hunting people; it would kill all of the good publicity your father has managed to build up.”

“You do not think he could be subdued?”

I reply harshly “Not unless we had more wolves and were willing to sacrifice a few.” I continue speaking, cutting off the conversation. “We are almost there.” I roll down the windows and proceed slowly, to see if we can catch a scent.

The wood is a beautiful place. It is a nature preserve, and well tended. The trails are nicely kept up, perfect for humans taking a stroll. The underbrush is present, but not overwhelming. A pack could easily travel through such woods. I understand why George prefers this hunting ground. Deer must love these woods. But the danger isn’t to the deer now, it is to the people.

Charles is fiddling with his phone. I glance at it and I see a satellite image of the surrounding area. He looks at a path directly between George’s house and the preserve.  I nod. We are going to have to be in wolf form to cover the requisite amount of ground fast enough to intercept him.

Charles says “Pull over. I’ll drive so you can shift.”

I ask “Don’t you need to shift as well?”

“I have a very quick shift when I’m not tired.” He isn’t lying, so I pull over, get out of the car, strip, and get in the trunk. Fifteen minutes later Charles parks as far in as our rental car is going to go. I hit the trunk escape button and hop out. Charles slams the trunk and begins to shift without even taking his clothes off. I watch, fascinated as the clothing vanishes and his form moves smoothly from on form to another, so different from my long, painful change. I tip back my head and howl. Charles replies in kind. We set off on the hunt.

We start on a circle of the preserve, running the boundary to see if we can detect a scent or other indication of George. We have taken a risk in coming here first. It is possible that he has chosen to hunt somewhere else, but this is his favorite hunting ground and it borders his land. We have run nearly a third of the perimeter when I stop, hearing something amiss. Charles stops a beat later, looking at me inquisitively. I tilt my head, to hear more. I catch a hint of the scent of fear as I hear another faint scream. Charles hears it too, and we dash off in sync. Halfway there, we catch George’s trail, his scent entwined with madness. Charles and I slow just outside of the clearing. We split and run in from opposite sides, giving us the advantage of surprise.

There is a human male on the ground, strips torn out of his chest. The mad Alpha is eating. Four wolves wait behind him for their turn at the kill. A fifth wolf has a girl pinned to tree with his gaze. He hasn’t attacked her, and his eyes still hold a semblance of control. The girl smells of fear and fury, her eyes darting back and forth, waiting for a chance to strike. Charles darts out of the woods and leaps for George, pulling him away from the body as they wrestle on the ground. I jump between Charles and the other wolves who are standing there, shocked at Charles’s sudden appearance.  I pin them with my gaze, but the madness and fury of their Alpha pulls them over the edge. Perhaps if I had the strength of my pack behind me I could have held them. But they snarl and leap forward at me. I duck under one, raking his belly. The next, I twist and tear out his throat. The third tears off a chunk of my shoulder before I rake him with my claws. I jump on him, hearing his back snap. I pause lightly for a few seconds, taking in the situation. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the girl rush for the wolf, kicking him in the side as he is distracted by the fight. He whirls on her, the madness lighting his eyes. I turn to help, but feel a rush of air. I spring out of the way as the first wolf rushes me again, snapping and biting. I spin and grab his back leg, breaking it with a savage jerk. Then I break his other leg, to be sure he won’t get up again. I jump over as the second wolf rushes me, blood still gushing out of his throat. I jump up and land on his back, breaking his back too. The back isn’t a fatal injury on werewolves unless it is too high up. But breaking the lower back nicely paralyzes wolves for a good few hours. Someone taught these wolves to fight. Too bad for them.

I shake off the battle haze, and look over to see what became of the girl. She is down, wounded. The wolf is standing over her, battling himself for control. I can see it in his rigid stance. I look to Charles. George is down and bleeding. As I look, Charles snaps his neck, certain death, even for a werewolf. I trot over to the girl. I recognize the wolf as the redhead I choked earlier. His name, what was it? He is showing surprising control. I snarl at the wolf. He backs slowly, his instincts screaming both to protect the girl and kill his prey. He is caught between the two, allowing me to exert my authority. Charles paces over, his eyes heavy and sad. He starts to change, his change just a bit slower this time, but the clothes reappear around his body. I am still amazed by that trick of his. No wolf I have ever known has manifested that ability. No fae, either. He speaks to the wolf “We aren’t going to hurt her. You are going to stay here until we get this situation sorted out. Watch your friends. As they heal, make sure they stay nearby.” Charles looks at me “You didn’t need to break their backs, Sydney.”

I give a wolfish shrug, thinking better safe than sorry. Charles kneels beside the girl, looking at the gushing wound in her side. He presses her sweatshirt over the wound. I sniff her over, looking and feeling for injuries with the sensitive part of my nose. Her arm is broken in two places, and there are bite marks, although not deep. The wolf was trying hard not to kill her although she attacked him. I admire such a brave spirited girl. It is unfortunate that a romantic walk in the woods ended in such a way for her. She will live if we get her proper medical care, but her boyfriend is dead. Charles gestures to me “Hold this.” I move around the body, having found nothing other than the broken arm and the wound in her side. The blood coming out is clean red, which means she hasn’t had any internal organs ruptured. Her blood also smells delicious. I check my wolf; we are trying to save the girl, not feast on her. Charles kneels in front of the red-haired wolf, commanding him “You will return to your Alpha’s house and await me there with your friends. Do not try to run; you will not be killed as long as you don’t run.” The wolf dips his head in acknowledgment, shaking in place from Charles’s glare. Charles picks up the girl, and we return to the car. I shift back as Charles calls 911. The police arrive before the ambulance. I put an ashen expression on my face and hang behind Charles. The night is darkening, perhaps they will not risk going into the woods so late. The police officer gets out of his car and approaches cautiously, one hand on his gun. That won’t do. I rush over, with a relieved expression on my face “Officer, officer, can you help her?”

“Ma’am, we received a call about an injured girl in the woods. Is that who you are talking about?”

I speak quickly, as is traumatized, and paste an expression of gratitude and relief on my face “Yes, yes, my cousin and I found her in the woods, bleeding all over the place. It looks like she was attacked or something.”

The officer asks cautiously “Where is she?”

Charles calls “Over here. We carried her out of the woods. Where is the ambulance?”

The officer walks over, a little more relaxed now. Two obviously concerned nice looking people are not an issue for him. We turn the girl over to the police officer and vanish away after the ambulance shows up. The officer did get a chance to ask a few questions, but we avoided contact information, and gave fake names. We have a mess to clean up.

 

Chapter 16:

 

We have perhaps an hour of daylight left when we return to the hotel after doing our best to hide the gruesome scene in the woods. I make tea and sit in a chair as Charles paces. I want to see what he decides to do next. There are multiple possible solutions, and I know what I would do. But I’m supposed to be the backup, and Charles does have more experience working under the Marrok. I offer him a cup of tea. He, remembering manners, takes it and sits. I wait, my gaze resting lightly on him. He comments “This is a real mess, isn’t it?”

I shrug “I suspect we do yet know the whole of it.”

Charles looks at me. He still doesn’t like me. “Reconnaissance.”  
I nod “Our next step. Where do we go first?”

Charles orders “We’ll poke around the town house first. See if we can figure out what Jared is trying to do. Then we’ll head out to see Orlando.”

I nod and jump up. “Sounds like a plan.” Charles tosses me the car keys and leads me down to the car. I notice his shoulder blades twitch. He doesn’t like having me behind him, but neither would he be happy with me in front of him. He’s very dominant, but can’t get a good read on me. I grin when he can’t see me. Charles is making this interesting. I drive much too fast, just to irritate him. We pull up two blocks behind the town house just as the sun hits the horizon.  We proceed on foot, with caution. We scent wolves, and some apprehension, but none of the fear that had been present at the Alpha’s house. The patrol routes are clear and organized. Charles and I exchange glances, then walk up to the door and knock.

“Who is it?”

I let Charles take the lead. The wolf that opens the door sees Charles and blanches. “Ah, Charles, you’re here.”

I cover my laugh with a cough. Charles asks “Who is in charge here?”

The wolf keeps his gaze on the ground “Jared, sir.”

Charles demands “Is he here now?”

A more dominant wolf appears at the end of the hall. “Charles. Hello. Calvin, show them into the kitchen. I will be with you in a moment.” He vanishes and Calvin shows us into the kitchen. We take seats that give us a clear view of the exits. Calvin hangs nervously in the doorway, his face white. I raise an eyebrow at Charles, but his face is inscrutable. Damn, people are terrified of him. It is amusing. The wolf I assume is Jared returns and dismisses Calvin with a nod of his head. Calvin darts off. Jared asks “What can I do for you, Charles?”

Charles leans forward, getting right to the point “What the hell happened here, Jared?”

He asks “Don’t you know? You’re here.”

I lean forward “We know there’s been issues with the pack and wolves running all over the place. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Jared flinches, his attention still on Charles. “There was an initiation ceremony, and then everything went to hell. I think the Alpha was hurt or something, because some of the crazier wolves went completely crazy. Then I saw the Alpha’s mate lying on the ground, her throat sliced. I beat it, because we all knew the only holding him to sanity was his bond with her. I gathered up the wolves I could and headed for the town. I knew Orlando would stay out of town. He is against humans.”

I ask softly “Why avoid Orlando?”

Jared shrugs “I think he might have killed the Alpha’s mate.”

“Why?”

“Not him himself, but probably one of his wolves. I’ve been suspecting that he plans to move against the pack, challenge for leadership. He’s been complaining that he deserves his own pack. He thinks he’s more dominant than me, keeps challenging and losing.”

Charles comments “Interesting.”

Jared’s eyes go wide “It’s the truth, I swear. Do you know what happened to the Alpha? I thought I felt him die recently, but the pack bonds are very messed up.”

I smile and tap my finger on the table “He’s dead, but not before he killed a human.”

Jared blanches “Shit. Who was with him?”

Charles nods. “A few lower ranking wolves, pulled along in his madness.”

We pause, and wait for Jared to speak. “I thought he was fine. I should have done something. But I wanted to get myself and my wolves out of there. Orlando can be crazy.”

I ask “Are you aiming to be Alpha, then?”

Jared blinks. “If George is dead, I suppose so. I’ve had enough work keeping my wolves together here. I don’t know what to do about Orlando.” He looks at me again “Who are you, by the way?”

I smile broadly “Sydney Einar. I’m working with the Marrok.” Charles gives me an annoyed look, not that anyone would see it as such.

Jared just asks “Very well, is there anything else I can do for you?”

Charles stands. “We are going to investigate the situation at Orlando’s. If you will give us the address, we’ll be on our way.”

After we get outside the house, I ask Charles “Do you normally advertise your next move like that?”

Charles asks “Like what?”

“We’re going to go see the other wolf now. Please plan a trap for us.”

Charles frowns at me “Jared knows better than that. He wouldn’t dare.”

I scowl in return as we get into the car. “That doesn’t mean on of his underlings didn’t call ahead and warn his friend in the other camp. Alphas, especially new ones, are not all-knowing creatures. Are you prepared to walk into an ambush?”

Charles asks “If you were so concerned, why didn’t you say anything?”

I shake my head “I wasn’t going to contradict you in front of a potential enemy. I’m not stupid.”

As we drive down the road, Charles questions “So you do understand politics then.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “I am a wolf. Of course I understand politics. I just don’t much care for following their silly rules. Unfortunately, I am acting for another’s interests, which means I cannot simply slaughter any who annoy me.” Charles’ lips quirk into something that might be called a smile. He has one of the coldest faces I’ve seen.

We reach the address given to us by Jared. We see only a small dirt road heading into the woods. I still think it looks like a trap. Charles decides “We’re leaving the car here. We’ll approach on foot.” A wise decision. But I never thought he was stupid. We walk up the dirt road, silently. After about ten minutes, we hear a howl in the woods. It is a hunting howl, and we are the prey. That simply won’t do. I tip my head back and howl in reply. It is a warning that I am the far more dangerous predator, and attacking me will result in instant death.

Wolves never listen, not when on their own territory, but they have been warned. Charles looks at me with a strange expression. I can’t catch what it is, even with my helpful extra senses.

The first wave charges at us in wolf form. They leap with slashing teeth. I move in reply, snapping limbs and crushing spines. I try not to snap too many necks. I remember the knife strapped to my leg, and I draw that, gutting my next two opponents. The tang of blood, everywhere, sends my senses into overdrive. The next wave that charges us is in human form. I tip my head back and let my laugh fill the howl I release. The wolves freeze, then attack, fear driving them. I can smell the scent in the air.

Riding high on the smell of battle, I slash and kick in a violent, entrancing dance. Every motion deals severe damage to an enemy. I start laughing at some point. It has been years since I have been able to tear into so many worthy opponents.

It is over too quickly. No wolf leaps to attack me, no man swings a sword. I look around, and see Charles finish off the last wolf. That kick to the spine will not let that wolf get up anytime soon. I survey the perimeter, and see a man fleeing the scene. No other danger presents itself, so I chase that man, a werewolf by his scent, down. He is too terrified to run straight, tripping over bushes and running into branches. I catch him easily and pin him against a tree. “What is your name?”

He doesn’t answer, so I put my knife to his throat. It won’t usually kill a wolf, but it is quite terrifying. “Wrong answer, try again.”

“Orlando. My name is Orlando.” Charles runs up to me, stopping at the sight. I toss Orlando at Charles. His face goes even whiter.

I laugh “Guess who I found fleeing the scene. The supposed leader of this bunch of failures.”

Charles looks at him, then at me. We are both covered in gore, but this coward is completely clean, aside from a line across his throat. I ask him “Did you order the attack on us? Don’t even think of lying.”

He gulps “No, I didn’t, I swear.”

“He lies. He attacked two representatives of the Marrok. What is the punishment for that?”

Charles sighs “Death.” He snaps the wolf’s neck. I smile, but he can’t match it. He looks at me and shakes his head. Well, the executioner still has a conscience. I wonder how many centuries that will last. We head back towards the battlefield. Walking among the fallen, we see who is dead and who still breathes. If they breathe at this point, they will probably live. It is amazing how much it takes to kill a werewolf.

I ask “Should we clean up here or go check out the house?”

Charles looks around and sighs “Lets check out the house.”

We walk the rest of the way up the road. There is a couple of wolves in human form sitting on the steps. They jerk up and look terrified when they see us. I raise my hands. “If you don’t attack us, we won’t destroy you. Your leader, Orlando, has been executed for his crimes.”

They look at each other and reply “What are we supposed to do?”

I ask “Who was in command after Orlando?”

The one on the left, the more dominant of the two, replies “Seth was next in command, but he led the first team to repel the invaders.”

Charles steps forward “Well, your invaders are representatives of the Marrok.”

The wolf on the left, older but less dominant, bows his head in submission. The other one whispers “Who is he?”

“That’s Charles Wolfkiller. If you look at him funny, he’ll eat you.” I don’t think they realize we can hear them. The other wolf bows his head as well. He is a fairly new werewolf, which explains why he was left to guard the cabin.

Charles demands “Are there any other wolves with you?”

They shake their heads, then one comments “Well, Sebastian is locked up in the basement.”

I ask “Why?”

The more dominant replies “He didn’t want to attack the invaders.”

I feel amusement spread across my face “Wise choice on his part. How dominant is he?”

The older one explains “he was dominant enough to go against Orlando, probably more dominant than Seth was. But Orlando didn’t trust him. He has only been a wolf for two years.”

I smile “Excellent. We’ll go let him out.” I push between the two wolves and explain things properly to this Sebastian.

The cleanup of a battle always takes much longer than the fighting. We move all the injured to the house, and I use a shortcut to clean up the rest of the dead. When we get back to the hotel, I am ready to take a shower and fall asleep. As I drift off, I hear Charles calling his father.

 

Chapter 17

 

**POV change – Asil**

 

Bran snaps his phone shut. He summoned me to his office just a few minutes ago. “Asil, I need more information on Sydney.”

I slouch in a chair. “What has she done this time?”

Bran snaps “She buried eight corpses with a wave of her hand.”

I ask “Did she make them too?”

Bran looks annoyed. I realize the monster of a beast he keeps inside is far to close to the surface. He glares at me, and I duck my head. “She and Charles were attacked, by about 15 wolves. 8 lie dead, and none of the rest can walk.” I nod, the outcome not surprising to me. “Charles says she fight unlike anything he has ever seen, and she took no injuries he could notice.”

I smile “High praise.”

Bran smacks his desk “Damn it, Asil, what is she?”

I bow my head as soon as I see his eyes flare yellow. “Wolf, woman, fae, whatever she chooses at the moment.” Bran still looks furious. I add “But first and foremost, she is a warrior. She will never accept defeat. She will never submit as more than a ruse.”

Bran growls “What am I supposed to do with her?”

I lean back, satisfied “I don’t know. I’m not the Marrok.”

Bran sighs “Charles is worried about her. He wants to put her in her place, to kill her for disobedience.”

I shake my head. “That won’t go over well at all. When are they coming back?”

Bran replies “Tomorrow night.” Bran pauses then demands “Tell me about the Siren, when you associated with her in the centuries past.” Oh dear. This will not end well.

I shrug my shoulders, calling up my old memories. “The last time I associated with the Siren, aside from a chance meeting atop a mountain…” But Bran interrupts me.

“A chance meeting atop a mountain? Start there.”

I really don’t want to. “That was simply a meeting. Nothing of interest transpired. You would be far more interested in when she held my pack, during the Spanish inquisition.”

Bran raises an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

I smile and begin. “Once upon a time, there was a perfectly fine werewolf pack that stumbled across an injured female wolf. Being a bunch of territorial male wolves, we took her in and let her heal, trying to convince her to mate with one of us. She protested, and when she was only halfway healed, she killed our Alpha and took the pack. She declared that any who disobeyed her would die, and not a single wolf doubted her sincerity or her ability to bring that about. So she ran the pack for a century. She kept us safe from accusations of witchcraft and who knows what else. She married multiple times at the beginning, claiming great sums of money before faking her death. Our pack was well run, far better than it was before she came. She cleared out an area where we were safe, and could run free. Things were good, for a while.”

I pause, dramatic to the end. Bran asks “Then what happened?”

I smile ruefully. “She found a mate. A noble’s second son. They married, but he was mortal and would not change to the wolf. I left the pack sometime after that, but I kept up with the news from friends. At the last, the Siren’s mate betrayed her. He tried to get the whole pack accused of witchcraft and burned. It failed, but only because of the safeguards the Lady had put in place herself. She killed him, I think. He was found dead of poison by the river. After she ensured the pack was protected, she left. She struck out for Africa, determined to see the south of the world.”

Bran looks shocked “She killed her mate?”

I shrug “The pack thought so. I could not say for sure.” Because I can’t help but needle Bran I add “I wouldn’t worry too much. You’re safe from poison, being a werewolf.”

Bran scowls at me. I smile. He snaps “Get out.” I stand and make a mocking bow. Bran rolls his eyes. “You’ve given me much to think about. I appreciate your honesty.”

What is the world coming to, where the Marrok makes genuine statements of appreciation? 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 18:

 

I take a deep breath as we disembark from the airplane. I could grow to love the scent of this place, this sanctuary in the high mountains and pine forests. It carries the traces of what the world used to be. Charles has been treating me icily since the battle. I am unsure whether it is my drop of magic or my skills in battle. He goes directly to report to his father. I follow, silent as a shadow. Charles marches straight up to the Marrok’s study. I eavesdrop.

“Charles, welcome back. I suppose you have something more to report?”

Charles sounds more agitated than I have ever heard him. “I explained the magic fully over the phone, but that is not what is bothering me.”

Bran sounds concerned “Is it Sydney? Because my decision is made on that matter.”

Charles sounds disgusted “Is it? Really? Because she walked out of that fight laughing.”

Bran comments “You were attacked by 15 wolves. 8 lie dead.”

“What I didn’t say is that she took down most of them. I usually fight to injure. She fought to kill. Five of the dead were by her hand. She tore through men in wolf form, armed with a knife.”

Bran replies “So she can fight.”

Charles emphasizes “But she was laughing, laughing as she killed, laughing as she challenged the pack. She was covered in blood, and kept laughing.”

Bran stops him “What color were her eyes?” He is smart.

Charles recalls “Blue. Her eyes were blue.”

“Then there’s nothing you or I can do. Besides, my beast has made the decision for me. I cannot choose another; I cannot sway my choice.” I sneak away on silent feet before they realize I was eavesdropping. Bran’s beast made the choice for him, now that’s food for thought.

I wander high and low, all around, letting my feet go where they will while I think. I end up at Asil’s house. I shake my head and go to turn away, for I am sure that Sage is there. Then I reconsider and enter the greenhouse. If I don’t touch anything, Asil probably won’t notice. And I don’t hear anyone inside the greenhouse. I open the door, wincing at the sound of the airlock. I venture through the rows of roses and beautiful flowers, finding a spot in the back where I can sit and relax.

Not entirely surprisingly, it doesn’t work. My wolf tasted blood yesterday, it will be weeks before she is as calm as I can make her. No, I crave action. But I force myself to be still, to meditate. I reach into the earth, trying to pull calm into myself, but the earth has drunk of blood here too. The slightest of sounds warns me, and I crack one eye open to see Asil standing in front of me. I mutter “Go away. I’m trying not to kill everything in sight, and it’s far easier if I don’t see anyone.”

Asil grumbles “Why are you in my greenhouse?”

I complain “I’m trying to meditate.” Asil snorts. I challenge “You have a better idea?”

He grins, an evil and venomous smile. He does have a better idea. “Follow me.” I follow him out to the back yard. There is a clear spot where the ground is mostly level. He throws something at me. I realize it is a sword, and catch it accordingly. Asil smiles, and there is fury in his eyes. I forgot he was still annoyed at me. “Remember how to use that thing?”

I haven’t touched a sword for a hundred years. They’re slightly out of fashion, and it’s much easier to smuggle knives through airport security, especially ceramic ones. I respond mockingly “Do you?” He leaps at me, and the challenge is on.

The blades are dull, as we circle each other, but a dull blade still can cut and hurt. Good. We clash again, a quick set of three strikes that I match with three blocks and a quick jab. Asil swipes sideways, moving out of range. He taunts “You’ve gotten slower over the years, Siren.”

I grin maliciously. I notice out of the corner of my eye that Sage has come out on the porch, and is watching us with shock and worry on her face. She pulls out her phone and calls someone. If I had to bet, it would be Bran. I flick my eyes at her “We’re going to have company.” It breaks his concentration for a fraction of a second, and I take the opportunity.

Asil barely blocks and snarls “I see you haven’t changed a bit.”

I laugh, dancing lightly as I dodge his anger filled strikes. A few more minutes prove that we were as evenly matched with swords as we were a few centuries ago. Time to change things up. I strike again, this time swiping my leg to the side and sending Asil straight to the ground. He rolls and gets up, furious “Learned some new tricks, Sydney?”

I cackle “Of course.” He jumps at me with a pattern I don’t recognize. He’s learned some new tricks as well. I slide from block to block, and almost miss a quick reversal at the end. I hide my mistake by swiftly attacking. We dance back and forth, enjoying the fight.

I feel it when Bran arrives. I glance over and see Charles at his side. Asil notices too. He taunts softly “Oh, look, there is your beloved, your dearest.” I snarl at him, but he keeps going. Obviously the centuries have not given him any more common sense. “So tell, me, Siren, do you plan to keep this one or kill him?” Ah, this is the reason he is so angry at me. But his question incites my fury.

“Why would you care?” I demand.  “Who would you prefer as Alpha?”

He snarls softly “And there is the root of my problem.”

I cackle “Well, we are soon to be married, so your problem shall be resolved.”

“And when you kill him? Then what?”

I attack him again, pushing harder, letting my anger and feeling of betrayal drive my sword. He lies on the ground, my blade on his throat. I don’t completely know what I did to get him there. I answer “You swear to the winner, like a good wolf. Like you always have done.”

He asks “And what if I don’t want to be that wolf anymore?”

I remove the sword and reply softly “Then you fight or die.” I offer him a hand up. He takes it and kisses it, though it has blood and dirt on it. I laugh, my bad mood gone. He grins in reply. He could always turn my temper around. We each now know where the other stands. He has changed over the centuries, perhaps far more than I.

He glances at the porch. “I think you have some explaining to do to our dear Marrok.” I roll my eyes and walk up to the porch. Charles sees me approach and makes himself scarce.

Bran comments with crossed arms and sunglasses on “You just fought the Moor.”

I shrug loosely “I just beat the Moor.” He snarls softly. His wolf is definitely leading, but he offers me his arm in an old-fashioned gesture. I take his arm in the older style, though I know full well the danger of close proximity to a werewolf on the loose. Would I be able to take him? I suppose I will never find out.

We walk to his car, and he opens the door for me. I slide in, but shut the door on my own. He sits in the driver’s seat, starts the car and drives towards the wilderness. It is only a few minutes later that the road disappears. When the car can go no more, he puts it into park and opens the door for me, offering me his hand. I notice that he has left the keys in the ignition. I don’t think anybody would dare to steal the Marrok’s truck. We walk up into the hills for at least half an hour, before he stops and spins on me. He yells “What the hell were you doing?”

I counter “Who are you to ask that of me?”

He snarls “Your soon to be mate.”

I yell back “I go where I please, fight who I want. You are not going to change my centuries of existence with a single mate bond.”

He grabs my wrist, and I break his hold. I had not thought that this aggressive behavior was part of his character. He takes a step forward, threating, and I move closer, ready to strike if he attacks. I don’t feel fear, only excitement. Fear of fighting and death is long in my past. He speaks “My nature is to protect those I care most about. You will not be able to change that.”

I respond, furious “I protect myself, and have done so for ages untold.” I dart quickly in and take off his sunglasses. His eyes are a bright burning yellow. I comment “Your wolf is ruling you, Bran. You know better than that.” My concern for him must have come across, because he captures my head with his hands and pulls me in for a kiss. It is fire, and passion, and makes me feel more alive than I have for centuries.

Bran pulls back just enough to speak, growling “You are mine.”

I laugh softly, countering “No, you are mine.”

 

Chapter 19:

 

The next day I catch Anna as she walks through the woods. I smile “Do you mind if I walk with you? I have a few questions that you could help me with.”

Anna smiles and replies “You aren’t angry with me?”

I think “About a couple days ago? No, that was my fault. I’m far more concerned about the Marrok.”

Anna nods “So are we all. But why ask me?”

I tip my head, showing respect. Her wolf will recognize it, even if she doesn’t “You’re the Omega, and female. You know far more of the pack than any Alpha male will realize.”

Anna tips me with a smile, so I push on. “I am genuinely concerned. I would like to know what has been going on, these last few months.”  
Anna sighs and gestures to a rock. “Let’s sit, and I’ll see what I can do.” She sits on the rock, and I sit on the ground instead of a rock nearby. Placing her on the higher ground should help her settle. I seem to cause some unease in her. It is something in her scent, and something I sense. Anna begins “You know who Bran is, was, in ages past?”

I nod “Brandon the Berserker, the Welsh monster. I was alive at that time.”

Anna doesn’t seem terribly surprised. “He is teetering on the edge of that, all the time now.”

I ask “Truly? That seems a grave danger to all.”

Anna sighs “He uses the mate bond to leash his beast, as I understand it. I’m a calming influence, which helps, but I am not his mate.”

I chuckle “I’m most definitely not a calming influence. How does the mate bond help him?”

Anna shrugs “He uses it as an anchor of sort, a way to keep himself in control.”

I frown “That just doesn’t fit with what I know of werewolves. But everyone has a different bond with their wolf.”

Anna seems torn on something, then starts a story. “A few years ago, when I had just arrived to Aspen Creek, Charles and I went hunting a rogue in the Cabinets. I’ll abridge the story, but essentially, the problem was a black witch. She caught Bran in thrall, and it broke his inner barriers. He almost entirely went back to the beast, nearly killed Charles. If I wasn’t there to kill the witch and soothe his wolf, I don’t know what would have happened.”

I comment softly “No wonder so many people are on a hair trigger here. They’re afraid their Alpha will turn on them, even if they don’t know why.” I stare into the distance. “Even Hussan was worried, that was why I have sought your counsel.”

Anna looks confused “Hussan?”

I shrug “He goes by Asil these days. I’m sure Charles told you what we were up to yesterday.”

Anna grins “He said your fighting was beautiful.” Her face grows solemn “He’s worried too.”

I grin, hoping I haven’t misread Anna “He’s not ready for a mother-in-law that’ll whup his ass?”

Anna tips back her head and laughs. I join her. Anna comments “Maybe this’ll work out after all. I didn’t think you had a sense of humor. It’s so different from…” She trails off.

I fix her with a look. “From Leah. No one will talk about her with me. All I know is that she was Bran’s mate, and she died, and Asil won’t speak of her, which is his most scathing insult or his highest compliment. Somehow I suspect it is the former.”

Anna smiles. “Leah was terrified of him.”

I question incredulously “Asil? Then why was she the Marrok’s mate?”

Anna shrugs “No one knows the answer to that question. But she was his mate, and he ordered everyone not to speak ill of her while alive, and none will now speak ill of the dead.”

I wince. “I see I have a reputation to live down. Charles really doesn’t seem to like me.”

Anna shrugs “He’s just concerned for his father.” Her statement borders on a lie. I can smell those easily; I am an old wolf. I ask “Only? It’s fine if you don’t want to say anything, but just be honest about it. Believe me, I can stand a few insults.” I smile to let her know I am sincere.

Anna straightens her shoulders. “Whatever you did on that trip a few days ago changed the focus of my husband’s worry. He was worried about Bran not having a mate before, now he is concerned about you being Bran’s mate. I don’t know why, precisely, but he does hate the fae.”

I shrug “I could guess. I’m very Alpha, and a warrior in my own right. It is how I was raised.”

Anna asks “I thought it was a new thing, that women were allowed to fight.”

I shake my head “It is not. It is only after agriculture finds an area that women become second class. Before that, no one has time to be protected. You’ll find that among the Vikings the women fought. They always fought, the climate was too harsh against us for it to be otherwise. I mean, there is some sense in protecting the women who bear children, but far more sense in letting the people of a society grow strong. Not every women needs to or even should bear children.”

Anna frowns “But a wolf’s protective instinct is very strong. Charles would keep me safe at any cost.”

I challenge “And you wouldn’t do the same for him? In the recent past society has acknowledged the male protective instincts and denied the female. Well, except Shakespeare. Just read Macbeth again. But most literature reads like women can’t feel jealous or protective.”

Anna smiles “I suppose Macbeth could be interpreted that way. I always loved the works of Shakespeare. Did you ever get to meet him?”

I shake my head. “I wish I did, but I was exploring Africa at the time. I got lost in the Sahara, then ended up aboard a pirate ship. The only unfortunate part to living through history is that you never know when the cool stuff will happen.”  

Anna shrugs “I don’t know; a pirate ship is pretty cool.”

I mutter “Yeah, but werewolves don’t swim. But I impressed them so much with my sword skills that I became Captain. It was fun.”

Anna asks “Then what did you do after that?” I raise an eyebrow. She continues “I’m sorry for asking, but so many of the old wolves here won’t talk of their past. It sounds fascinating.”

I shrug “Immortality is fun, if you let it be, and lack most of a conscience. After that, I wandered over to India, and ran into a great many white people. I followed the technology back to England, which was much changed. The fae were in full retreat. It was when I realized that the world was truly changing this time. Guns and steel were far more common, and a mortal could travel the world in one lifespan. Science was back, and so strong that it seemed it would not fall again. Magic hid, and humans stopped believing. That was new as well. But the smog drove me crazy, so I followed the old Silk Road to China and became a pirate again, though it was an accident that time. I’ll let you guess which one, but I was very famous. I even made it into Pirates of the Caribbean. Upon that death, I messed around in the Islands for a while, eventually returning to China and watching Communism take over. It is quite a fascinating concept. Then I came here and found a mate again. But he was killed in challenge, and so I slew his killer. I decided it was time for an acknowledged female Alpha again. Where I lead, others will follow.”

Anna shakes her head “A famous pirate, really?”

I raise an eyebrow “Recourse to google and see if you can figure it out. I do enjoy being a warrior Queen.”

Anna asks craftily “Is that what you are doing this time? Do you see yourself as becoming Queen here? Because, I warn you, it is work.”

I smile “Of course it is work. But this work, the work Bran has started, is greater than anything I have ever built. It is an eternal, undying empire, if it survives the second forging.”

Anna asks softly “What was the first?” 

I shrug “The humans are not hunting down the wolves in great numbers. That is a miracle in and of itself. That was the first test.”

“And the second?”

I roll my shoulders “That has yet to be seen, but I scent war. A war that this world has not seen for an age. The fae are divided, and Underhill is unhappy. I’ve ordered a sword, and Bran’s army needs a general. Bran makes an excellent king, but he needs a general. He would not lead armies. He is an excellent fighter, but not a warrior. Not by choice.”

Anna cocks her head “Charles is a warrior.”

I shake my head “Not quite. He is an excellent soldier, would make a good officer and a spectacular fighter. Given a century alone in the highlands of China, and he would be a warrior, but he is no great leader. Not yet. Bran should be grateful that his sons do not desire his position.” Anna chews on that for a minute. I counter “I have told you of me, but I have a question for you.”

Anna invites “Ask.”

“Who do I remind you of that makes you so unsettled? Not Leah I hope.”

Anna smiles and shakes her head “No, not Leah. Isabelle. She was mate to my first Alpha, who changed me by force.” I hiss in anger. No one should ever harm an Omega. But I let her continue to bleed the poison from her wound. “I thought she was my friend, but she was mad, the subtle madness that comes with age. I was changed, and she permitted it, to soothe her madness. She killed all female rivals in the pack before I came. She was forced to protect me, and did a terrible job of it. Mad, and strongly Alpha.”

I ask jokingly “I don’t suppose Charles left anyone for me to kill?”

Anna shakes her head. “I’ve made my peace.”

I nod in acceptance, though not understanding. “Omegas are the saving grace of all the werewolves. Were it not for you, wolves would be rotten to the core.”

Anna makes a face. I smile back at her, feeling the seeds of honest and friendship grow into something that could stand the test of time, if I feed it. It is good, it has been an age since I was close to an Omega.

 

Chapter 20:

 

The wedding date is set for three days, as is my dress color. I decided to go with a vibrant magenta, and Bran summoned some woman to have the dress I ordered on Amazon fitted. He was shocked that I would order a wedding dress on Amazon. I loved the Amazons. I complained that I could do it myself, but Asil convinced Bran I was incompetent at sewing. I even picked a color that the blood from pricking myself with the needle wouldn’t be noticeable on. Sigh.

The initiation into the pack is tonight, and then we will go on for a run beneath the full moon. It looks to be a clear night. Over the past few weeks I have forged friendships, wrote wedding invitations in languages long gone, and spent time shopping. I finally got Sage to forgive me, and although that friendship will take time, it will happen.

I go to see Bran. I walk up to his study and hear the fire crackling. I knock. “Come in, Sydney.”

How he knew it was me, I have no idea. I enter “What troubles you today, my soon to be husband? How may I help?” I turn a chair backwards and sit in it. I think it looks cool, I got it from a movie.

Bran frowns at me “You look younger.”

I smile “Never ask a girl her age.” Bran simply raises a brow. I laugh “I’m trying to match the appearance of your age. It will look better, but I’m shifting the glamour slowly, so as not to unsettle people.”

Bran scowls “I told you to take it off when it is just the two of us.” I drop the spell, and roll my shoulders to relax. It feels strange not to wear glamour.

“So what bothers you, my dearest?”

Bran asks “Am I that? Your dearest?”

I tilt my head, pretending to think. “Perhaps except for Anna, yes. At this time.”

Bran rolls his eyes “Well, I can’t compete with the Omega. Asil has no claim on your heart?”

I raise my eyebrows high “If that is what bothers you, put your worry to rest. Asil is like a little brother. A badly behaved one at that.” My scathing tone convinces him of that, and he laughs.

“No, that was not what bothered me. What is bothering me is who you invited to the wedding.”

I tilt my head. “How so?”

“Who you invited, and how you invited them. Do you think I don’t read ancient languages?”

I shrug “I assumed nothing. I simply addressed people in the language I used last with them. Not all fae keep up with modern tongues.”

Bran scowls “Every word, true. You sent to some of my wolves as well, even a few from the Spanish pack. Asil will not be pleased.”

“He’ll deal. Most were my wolves, upon a time.”

Bran shakes his head “So you were an Alpha.”

“Did you doubt it?”

Bran sighs “Not for very long. You’ve made more friends than I thought possible in my pack. Their allegiance to you is causing unrest in the bonds, which also shouldn’t be possible.”

I shrug “I am alpha. And I’m marrying you in three days, so it shouldn’t be a problem for long.”

Bran scowls at me. I smile back. He comments dryly “You are unsettling Asil.”

I mock frown “But I set him up with a great distraction, I mean mate.”

Bran glares at me. “And got a whole house to yourself, I know. And then made great friends with your distraction.”

I sigh and flutter my lashes “I suppose I shall have to learn more subtlety to get my tricks around you, dearest wolf.”

Bran finally remembers what he was actually worried about. “You invited every fae that is powerful and somewhat inclined not to destroy all the humans. Including…” His eyes drop to a list, I am sure just for dramatic emphasis “Siebold Adelbertkrieger, to whom you wrote in a language I don’t recognize, but seems vaguely Scandinavian, Gwyn ap Lugh, who you address as, I quote ‘To my glorious enemy in battle’, Nemane Morrigan, to whom you write in Celtic slash marks, a long dead language…”

I interrupt “But it’s her favorite language. She can write with her talons that way.”

Bran ignores me “also Ymir, who attacked my Mercedes, Uncle Mike, who to my knowledge has never left his tavern, and assorted other fae. What the hell are you doing? Holding a wedding or planning a war?”

I frown “Is there a difference?”

Bran snarls “Yes, there is a” He pauses, trying not to swear, “A freaking difference.”

I shrug “War is coming, and the wedding is a declaration of allegiance. I want my most powerful possible allies to know where I stand. Besides, most of them are old friends or enemies.”

Bran sighs “Sydney, Zee and Beauclaire are mortal enemies. You cannot expect them to sit in the same room.”

“They’ll do it, to see me wed to you. It should terrify Zee for at least another century, and Beauclaire should be amused, at the very least. I’m delighted that he has gotten his powers back, gave up that stupid vow.”

Bran rubs his forehead, like I’ve given him a headache. “Why?”

I tease “Chin up, it’ll be fun, just like old times. Some fighting, some drinking, and a pretty girl marrying the king of the wolves. Won’t it be delightful?”

Bran scowls at me “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you planned this whole thing.”

I shake my head “Not until you showed up at my door with flowers. Anything before that was merely speculation. Now, do I get a kiss before I leave you to your paperwork?”

Bran grins, a mischievous smile “Once we’re married, I’ll make you do the paperwork.”

I shiver “No, thank you. Send me to hunt down the rogues, and Charles can do some paperwork. It will be good character building for him.”

Bran warns “You’re going to have to make peace with him.”

I counter “He’s going to have to make peace with me. Don’t worry, he’s Indian. He’ll eventually listen to his spirits and get there.”

Bran just looks at me, puzzled-like “What do you know of the spirits?”

I chuckle “More than I’ll tell Charles, as long as he is being stubborn.” Bran just scowls at me. I tilt my head, very wolf-like and meet the Marrok’s gaze. “And while we’re discussing personal shit, what the hell is up with your wolf?” Bran pauses, trying to stare me down. But I recognize when wolfs are avoiding questions, even Alpha wolves. I add “I know you’re the Berserker and all, but what is happening now?” Bran flinches almost imperceptibly at the title.

Bran challenges “Do you know, really?”

I wave my hand in dismissal “I am that old. No, you’re avoiding the question. What is going on right now? The ruler of all the wolves ought to have better control of his wolf. Where you lead, others should follow.”

Bran looks pissed. He grinds through his teeth “I know how to control my beast best. I keep it locked tight in a cage.”

I ask softly “Then why are your eyes so often yellow?”

Bran scowls “I know what I’m doing. I keep my beast locked tight, I keep full control even when my wolf comes out to play.”

I counter “You slide smoothly from man to wolf, but keep your beast locked tight in a cage? Bran, even I know that’s a contradiction.” He snarls at me. I tip my head back and laugh “It’s not entirely your wolf you keep locked up, is it? It’s part of you.”

He orders “Get out. Now.”

I shake my head. “Now we come to my real point. Why are you seeking me for a mate? You don’t love me. I know what that is, and this doesn’t feel like it.”

Bran controls himself “I care very deeply about you.”

I cut quick to the bone “You don’t love me. You feel lust and perhaps attraction, but not love. You don’t even trust me, but your wolf or beast, whichever, is enthralled.”

Bran chuckles darkly “My beast wants to devour you on the spot. It takes a lot of control to do otherwise.”

I roll my eyes “I’m fine with that. What concerns me is that you, Bran, will get dragged along and never come to care. To view this relationship as a necessary sacrifice for the good of all.”

Bran snaps “And if it were so? Would you care, as long as you gained power once more?”

I nod. There’s the truth. I stand and respond “If I were playing, I’d tell you to go ask Asil. But I’ll favor you with a direct answer, because I care that much. If you view this as a sacrifice, I’ll slice up your rotting corpse and let the earth devour you. The blood of so many is on your hands, the earth would be grateful for their return at last.”

Bran laughs “You think you could kill me?”

I ask “Can you guard against a wife? A dutiful spouse, who take care of your house and does as she is told? A bit of poison here and there, a small piece of silver shrapnel in your dinner. Do you think yourself indestructible?”

Bran counters smugly “Charles would kill you, if I didn’t.”

“I can handle Charles. He’d do anything for his Omega, and he won’t wear the crown. Not for centuries.”

Bran scowls “You wouldn’t do it.”

I tilt my head “I lived through centuries where guile and poison were the only weapons left to women. I will do anything to ensure my peace of mind. If I cannot rule with you next to me, I will rule without you. While you fight yourself, I will take everything. Think on it, Brandon. If you cannot enter a union honestly, with open intentions, walk away. I’ll find a nice pack to rule, and you can find another woman to be your living sacrifice to the greater good. That’s the one thing I don’t give a damn about.” I stalk out of the room, slamming the door.

I walk downstairs, nearly missing Asil sitting on the couch. I glare at him “How much of that did you hear?”

Asil grins smugly “You told him. It’s been a while since anyone took that tone of voice with him. Even Anna walks softly around him these days. However, you may want to leave soon because there’s a good chance he will decide to destroy everything in sight.”

I roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t want the dear lord and ruler of us all to enter into a marriage with misconceptions.”

Asil laughs softly and offers his arm. I take it, feeling the prick of eyes on the back of my neck. Asil and I ignore Bran’s soft subvocal growl as we walk out the door. Asil comments softly, once we’re outside “You’re playing with fire, Lady.”

I respond “I am always playing with fire, Hussan.”

“That’s not my name anymore.”

“Then why are you calling me Lady again?”

“Because you’re going to be. You know that didn’t really deter the king of beasts.”

I shake my head “I don’t know, most people get put off by their bride threatening to kill them in their sleep.”

“Well, when you’re married, I’m going to make everyone call you Great Lady and bow down before you again.”

“I will gut you and leave your corpse for the crows.”

“But you need a proper title, unless you want to be known as the Marrok’s wife for the rest of your days.”

“Make it the Marrok’s widow at this rate.” We laugh raucously, causing people to stare at us. Sage comes out of a store and starts walking towards us. I raise an eyebrow at her speed, and the street goes quiet. A fight between wolves always spices things up. I nod at Sage and say to Asil “I think this is where I bid adios.” I detach my arm, but he grabs my hand and kneels, kissing it. Damn it, he’s declared his allegiance in full view of the town. That’s not what I wanted, but Asil rarely complies with anyone’s wishes. I pull him to his feet and turn to Sage. “Try not to break him. He just put a target the size of the moon on his neck.” She looks confused, so I step out of the way. She glares at Asil, and I shroud my dominance and walk away. It is clear his love of drama hasn’t faded.

Sage growls at Asil “What the hell was that?” I let the noise and the audience fade into the background. I change into my wolf and run for the hills.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: sex scene. Skip the second half of Chapter 21 if you don't like that stuff.

Chapter 21:

 

I run over mountains, cross streams and fly across ridges. I let the joy of running as a wolf sweep me away, just feeling the wind on my paws and the boundless energy of a wolf at the run. I set an easy pace, one at which I could run all day. An hour later, I feel a shadow at my back. It is a lithe medium gray wolf with a white tipped tail. His dominance is clear, even across the valley. He flicks his tail like a cat and darts down a hill. I give chase, speeding across the valley to pick up his scent. He leads me up into the heights, temperature growing colder although it is only late summer. After a while, I catch up, and we sniff each other in greeting. We are hungry, and so exchange the idea of hunting.

Darting back across a valley, we come across a young buck, tender meat. It is hard to take down deer with two wolves, but it can be done. And we hunt beautifully together. We run beside the young buck, running him down, watching his hooves skid on the rocks where our feet grip well. Eventually he turns, exhausted and ready to fight. But his antlers are small, and he is exhausted. We dart in, nipping and harrying and he darts back and forth. We chase him, until he stops, chest heaving. I charge at him, and my mate darts in from the side, tearing out the buck’s throat. The prey shudders and collapses, blood running into the earth in silent sacrifice. The wolf and I tip back our heads and howl the song of victory in the hunt. Then we devour the prey, the rich warm meat enticing to us. We eat most of our kill, leaving what little remains to the scavengers already circling overhead.

Bran flicks his tail, and I trot alongside him, content to run together as equals. The sky is already darkening, bringing the chill of night. We will not be able to return to home today. Bran heads into a cave system, and I follow until we reach a smooth, comforting cave. It smells lightly of Bran, and I know it to be his secret refuge. No other wolf’s scent lingers. He curls up on a soft bed of skins, and I join him, curling my body around his. He rests his muzzle on my side, and we drift off into sleep.

We wake at the first touch of the sun. Habits from centuries past die hard. We go out for a run, surveying the territory that is just beginning to brighten. When we reenter the cave, I can tell Bran is thinking more like a human. He starts to shift, and I follow suit. We need to talk, I guess.

After shifting, we just sit on the floor. I move over, and entangle our feet, but position myself so we can see each other’s faces. We are both naked, but I don’t think either of us really notices.

Bran starts off well “You look beautiful, Sydney.”

I smile and dip my head “I appreciate your compliments.”

He begins to stand, “Here let me get you clothes.”

I keep his feet in place “Don’t bother. I am comfortable with myself as is. If you wish, I can cloak myself in glamour.”

Bran scowls “If you are comfortable, I will enjoy you as you are.” I tip back my head and laugh. He moves closer, so we are side by side. He traces a finger along the scar that runs from my right rib cage to under my left arm. “Where did you get so many scars?”

I shrug “I received most before I became wolf. That one was from a training sword. An accident in practice, they said. I would have died from the infection if my mother hadn’t called in a favor.”

Bran whispers “How long ago was that?”

“I know not. Centuries and centuries. An age and then some.”

“How were you changed, with fae magic in your blood?”

I lean close, cuddling as if we were still in wolf form. “I have very little fae blood. My mother was a quarter or so, and I inherited only the smallest fraction of her power.”

“But you can call on the earth and glamour.”

“Glamour is a magic that grows with age. My first few centuries, I could do nothing to hide my face. My immortality came entirely from the wolf. The earth magic, it was always there, but it grows and falls with my strength as a wolf.”

“When you lead, your fae magic grows? How does that make sense?”

I roll my shoulders. “Magic isn’t that straightforward. I don’t have separate fae and pack magic. They wax and wane in time to each other, as I grow in strength.”

Bran raises an eyebrow. “You’ll grow much in strength, then, by marrying me.” I nod. He comments “I wish we had more time, then, to share secrets and stories of times long ago.”

I shake my head “That would take another century, and I fear the world will not permit us the time.”

Bran smiles, then turns solemn “Do you feel it? The change in the air?”

I nod “I feel the brewing of a storm, a storm that will shape landscapes and expose things best left unknown.”

“Why now?”

“Because, in all the centuries, more new things have come about in the last 50 years than any time previous. The whole world has grown civilized; the humans have created destruction as great as the greatest of the ancient spells. The internet has come about, and the fae revealed themselves.” I turn and look at him “When you built up your empire in the New World, you became something the fae could no longer ignore. Once, wolves were nothing to the fae, barely of more use than humans. But with you in charge, wolves cannot be ignored.”

Bran scowls “It’s not my fault.”

I smile “Not entirely. The grey lords made a play, but did not account for all the variables. Not from lack of experience, but because there were things at play that never existed before. When the most ancient misstep, huge things follow. The fae are at their weakest, but magic is on the rise again. Do you feel it?”

“What do you mean?” His voice is hoarse.

“The magic of the old world, that used to sing deep in your bones. It faded when steel became popular, and when the fae ran to Underhill. But she shut her doors. Now Underhill, the root of power for many fae, is open. Perhaps she kills her beloved, but the power flows again. The witches grow in strength, and the druids are becoming something to fear once more. Humans know again the monsters that walk among them, but now they can fight them with weapons of steel and silver, yes, but also with nuclear radiation and terrifying explosions. With the element of surprise, there are not many fae who could contain a nuclear bomb dropped on a reservation.”

“Must it come to that?”

“No, but it might. You know as well as I do what happens when humans are scared.”

He sighs “Then why are you here?”

I give him part of the answer “I cannot sit on the sidelines. I can steer the course of the world now, and make it something better. I’ve thrown my lot in with the wolves.” Then I give him the rest of the answer “But also because I want you. You can take me as who I am, no deception, no hiding behind masks.”

His eyes are bright with his wolf. “Why? Do I not terrify you?”

I place my forehead against his, looking deep into his eyes. “No.” I let my wolf come all the way out to play, feeling my eyes fluoresce green. “Do I scare you?” I feel his desire for me rising up at that question. Apparently my best terrifying stare is arousing. He lightly, gently, takes my lips with his, whispering huskily “Never.” I let my arousal flow, leaning in and trailing kisses down his neck.

He groans huskily, and I feel his erection pushing into my thigh. I run my hands up the sides of his ribcage, and he arches his back and rubs against me. He traps my hands, so I slide so I am straddling him, keeping my body just inches from his. We lock gazes, and I nearly drown in that passionate, fiery yellow. I arch into him, and he grabs my head, pulling me close for a passionate kiss. I use the motion to take him to the ground, straddling him with my thighs and pinning his hands. I murmur softly into his ear “You’re mine.” I trail kisses down his neck, right over his pulse, and nibble and nip my way down his rib cage. He shudders and moans beneath me, not fighting my hold, but unable to control himself. I grin and release his hands, but he knows not to move them. Not yet. I slither down his body, licking and nipping as I come to his erection. I slide my tongue down its length, and Bran gasps, jerking on the floor. I slip my lips around it, still sitting on his legs, and begin to tease, taking him into my throat. But I don’t let him come. I sit up and slide so I am sitting across his chest. I pin his hands again, and use my other hand to play with my nipples. It is the ultimate tease game, and I feel his growl start deep within his chest. I kiss and nip some more, light touches that only feed the growing need inside him.

Then, when he is shuddering with passion all over, I sit to the side, as if I am done. His control snaps, and he pins me against the cold stone floor. I moan and gasp, urging him on. I rock into him hard. He nips me, not nearly so gently. His control is on the brink, good. He is still growling deep in his throat. He releases my wrist to play with my breast, determined to tease me as I have taunted him. He licks and teases and nibbles until my fingers dig into his back, releasing the fresh smell of blood. He tightens up, drawing up to his full length, and drives into me, hard. I scream and rock up to meet him. Then he does it again, and I bite into his shoulder as climaxes shiver up my spine, causing me to writhe under him in pleasure. He pounds into me again, and again, and again, each fresh strike unleashing desperate pleasure. Finally, we lie together, satiated and exhausted with him still deep inside me.

I see the wolf leave his eyes. He pulls away, but I grab him tight. I see apology and regret flicker across his face so quickly, but the feeling remaining is pain. He sees my bruises and winces. No, no, no. He will not feel regret over something I enjoyed. I won’t permit it. He whispers “I’m sorry, Sydney.” He tries to break my hold. I don’t let him go.

“Why?” I ask. “I loved it.”

He looks surprised “I hurt you. My wolf shouldn’t have done that. You’re my mate.”

I kiss him, letting the warm afterglow fill my face. “I loved every minute of it. You should never apologize for something that makes me happy.”

“No, I won’t hurt you.” He is going to be stubborn. I move quickly, pinning him to the floor.

“You can’t hurt me. I would never let you. What I will let you do is devour me, bit by bit, in passion as I take you.” He looks startled. I snarl “You are mine. My equal, and my mate.” I gift him with a soft, passionate kiss. “Now stop the silly apologizing, and we can do it again.”

Bran mutters “You are crazy.” He sounds delighted with this discovery.

I cackle and light my eyes with passion. “I know.”

 

Sometime later, fully exhausted, we nap in the dawn light. I wake to meet Bran’s gaze. His solid brown eyes meet mine from across the cave, where he sits. I ask “Why are you over there? I’m cold.” He just looks at me. From the angle of the light in the cave, it is about 8:00 in the morning. I snap “Bran?” He looks haunted. I walk over and kneel in front of him. “What bothers you so?”

He replies “I thought the mating bond would settle the beast. Instead, you have enraged it.”

I shrug “Give it time. This is unsettling for me as well right now. It feels different from any of my previous bonds.”

“How?”

I tilt my head “It is deeper and stronger. It could not be sundered, even new as it is now.”

Bran asks “What have we done?”

I smile and take his hand “We’ve shaken the world. At this point, our marriage is a courtesy notification to the world.”

Bran smiles, at last “We are much stronger now. I can feel your strength feeding mine and mine feeding you.”

I nod, distracted by the stir of power within my chest at his words. “Magic is a strange thing.” He nods in agreement. We sit together in silence for a while.

Bran finally looks at me, humor in his eyes “You think it is time to go face the pack? They’ll have felt the change in the bonds. It probably woke them all up early.”

I shake my head “I can’t wait.” We shift into wolf form and run back across the mountains, to my new home.

 

Chapter 22:

 

We trot in right through the Marrok’s front door. Already inside are Anna, Charles, Asil, Sage, Tag, and a few other wolves. Tensions are running high. Bran and I exchange glances and dart up to his room. As we change back to human, we hear the low sound of an argument. They are all furious and upset. Bran finishes before me. He advises “There are sweats in the drawers, but you are welcome to anything in the closet. I am going to resolve the situation downstairs.” I finish as quickly as I can, throwing on a pair of sweats, but placing the glamour of a plain green dress atop that. I run my hands through my hair, charming in into shape. I walk slowly and silently down the steps. I hear the conversation come through the door “I will not let people talk badly of my mate. You all know this.”

Charles snarls “We should be able to voice objections. You know how badly that rule turned out with Leah.”

Asil drives up the tension, deliberately I am sure, by adding “Sydney isn’t Leah.”

Charles growls “She’s worse, she’s fae.” I consider my human glamour, and let it drop along with my dress. I stalk into the room with the angry stride of a predator.

Every eye turns to me. I address Charles “I have fae blood, but it does not make me fae anymore than your witch-blood makes you a witch.” Charles glares at me. I let him meet my gaze. Without calling on the Marrok’s power, I stare him down. Our eyes lock for a long time as the room goes silent, but he submits. I nod and turn to Asil. “You should know better than that.” Asil dips his head quickly. I look at Bran with annoyance “Let them speak their minds to me. I am more than capable of setting them straight, or removing their tongues if they lie. I won’t have my people forced to lie to my face. Every wolf in the pack should be able to address their Alphas without fear or concern.”

Bran snaps back “I will order them to do what I will.”

I respond in like “And I will order them to speak their minds. There’s many ways to run dictatorship. I am new. Give them time to complain and grow accustomed before you try to shut them all up.”

Bran snarls “Fine. But they better not say bad things about you in my presence.” I tilt my head and survey the room.

“I don’t think that will be an issue. Any comments, my new pack?”

Asil, with his eyes glued to the floor, mutters “Yeah, who’s the Alpha?” Bran and I both glare at him. He keeps his eyes firmly fixed on some fascinating grain of wood.

Anna lets out a gentle laugh, and the tension in the room drops. I tilt my head to her “Omega.”

She nods at me. “Alpha.” She glances at Bran mischievously “Alphas.”

Bran glares at the room in general “Everybody out. You can comment at another time. I intend to enjoy some breakfast with my mate. We have guests arriving, and I don’t want to hear of any dissent until they leave.” Right, the full moon run is tonight, and the wedding is tomorrow. I can almost feel him roll his eyes. *Pack. So irritating _._ * I would swear it is Bran’s mental voice.

I follow back along the wavelength *Pack is family _._ Don’t be annoyed with the children, they are just worried about their dear father. *

Bran’s eyes flutter in shock, but he replies *I knew this was going to be interesting. *   

Asil mutters to me as he files by “Congratulations on your newest acquisition.” My rabbit punch hits him in the gut, and he doubles over. Sage snarls at me. I raise an eyebrow at her. Asil continues walking by. I have my back to him, but I know when he tries to snag my foot. I place a nice side kick in the center of his chest and send him flying out the door. Sage starts laughing, after Anna touches her arm.

I raise an eyebrow “Anyone else need a little help?” Heads shake and eyes fall to the floor. They all leave rapidly, except Charles and Anna. I ask them “I suppose you two are staying?”

Anna smiles, oblivious to the tension between me and Charles. “If Bran is cooking, I’m definitely staying.” I glance to Bran, and he nods.

“Samuel will be here in less than an hour anyway. I’ll make lots of pancakes.” We all move to the kitchen. I and Anna grab seats in the kitchen while Charles looms against the wall. I lean back and relax.

Something occurs to me, so I say “Bran, we should figure out when I ought to use glamour.”

He kisses me on the forehead as he grabs a bowl from a drawer.

“You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

I smile “Thanks, but I’m hardly fit to be shown to the media. Can you imagine the headlines of that?”

Anna laughs “Werewolf king marries helpless fae maiden.”

I flutter my lashes as Bran howls his amusement. I comment “Seriously, it’ll ruin the whole ‘we’re really just humans that want to eat you for breakfast, I mean help you’ media vibe. You wouldn’t believe how funny my last pack found the media spin on werewolves.”

Bran scowls “I am glad the wolves derive some amusement from my efforts.”

I nod convincingly “It is very successful. The poor police officers didn’t even scream when I explained that I was a werewolf. They expected me to help them. And he didn’t even fire Emilio when the witch told him a wolf was in the room. It was splendid press, really.”

Bran teases “I am so glad you appreciate my efforts, dear.”

“You can be sure of it, dearest.” There is just a hint of suggestion in my tone.

Anna’s head lands in her palm. Charles mutters “You already reek of each other. There is no need to flirt.” Bran and I make eye contact. He looks away. My problem to deal with, then.

I stand “Charlie, if you have an issue with me, it is time to work it out.” Anna stands, putting herself between her mate and I. Charles steps forward, moving Anna to the side.

“I don’t trust you nor like you.”

“But you will obey me.” We lock eyes. I place my hands on the table and arch my back, stretching, but not breaking eye contact. I ask “Bran, do you happen to have a few sticks lying around?”

Bran scowls “Asil left his practice swords by the door. No, you are not fighting before breakfast. Not after this morning.”

I head for the door, calling “I will be perfectly fine.” Charles follows, stalking me. I scoop the swords off the ground and head for the dirt patch in the backyard. I toss a sword at him and settle into a ready position, letting the tip of my sword make small circles in the air. Charles launches himself at me. He is fast, faster than any wolf I have fought. If he is fast, I will have to be swift and smart.

In the kitchen I overhear Anna ask “Don’t you want to watch them fight?”

Bran replies “No.”

Anna asks “Why?” as Charles swings at me again. I counter and slice inside his guard.

Bran replies “Because I don’t particularly want to kill my son this early in the morning.” He slams a bowl on the counter harder than is absolutely necessary. Bran’s protective instincts are off the charts. But then, so are mine. I strike with my blade in a pattern of high and low and finish with a crescent swing. It draws blood, despite the dull swords.

Charles snarls and leaps into the attack. I dance back. Our blades clash, fast and furious. He has some experience with a sword, and speed on me. I keep my style efficient, short cuts and stabs that limit his room. We circle, waiting for an opportunity. A slight opening in his guard, and I slash the inside of his hand, sending the sword flying through the air. Charles grabs for my throat, but I already have the blade hovering just under the tip of his nose. He ducks his eyes, but swings a fist at me. I grab his wrist and lock his arm behind his back, stepping behind him with the sword still across his neck. I whisper “Even you would die without your head.” I lock his wrist so that if he moves, it will break. I speak “Yield, or your wrist goes.” Survivable for a wolf, but quite irritating while it heals.

He replies “I yield.” There is a pause “That you know how to use a sword much better than I.” I drop his wrist and step away from his grab.

“Would you prefer a different weapon? Do you doubt that I can beat you at whatever weapon you choose?”

“I think you are a lying, manipulative fae.”

 “I don’t lie. It is foolish among wolves, dangerous among fae, and useless among humans.”

“Can you lie?” He sounds curious now.

“I haven’t tried. Nothing prevents fae from lying but fear of punishment. Whether or not I would be included in that ancient magic is beyond my ken.” I lower the sword. “Are we done? Will you obey?” I could probably force him, but it is better that he decides.

Charles dips his head “I will obey.” He mutters “Most of the time.” I pretend not to hear. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and I think it will be harder than that for Charles to trust me.

We return inside and start devouring the pancakes Bran has made. When Bran sits down he points his fork at me. “You cannot go around fighting everyone in the pack.”

I ask “Why not? It’s fun.”

Bran scowls “Because I will be furious if anything happens to you.”

I scowl back at him. “I’m a warrior. You will not keep me locked in a gilded cage. I’m your mate, not your pet.” We glare at each other until Anna claps.

“Break it up you two, I’d like to eat before my food gets cold.” Bran and I agree to table the issue for now. We dig into the food. Food is always a great solution.

Just minutes later, a car pulls up. Charles mutters “It’s Samuel.”

Samuel barges into the kitchen with Ariana in tow. He asks “What has the pack in such a snit?” He scents the air and blinks once “Oh, that. Well, this’ll be a fun wedding.”

I smile “Grab a seat and enjoy the pancakes. Bran made them special.” Samuel shoots me a look, glances at Bran and shakes his head.

He mutters “This will definitely be interesting.”

Ariana asks me “Are you excited for the wedding?”

I smile and talk turns to plans and guests and dresses and the like. Anna approves of my ‘feminist’ view of weddings and my colorful dress and Ariana is very concerned about the number of powerful fae that will be in one place at the same time. Charles abstains, having no apparent interest in weddings, and Bran smiles like he is indulging me. I know he is as excited as Samuel is though. Samuel seems to love weddings.

After a time, I realize that they are trying to make changes to my carefully laid plans. I scowl “I’m not changing anything.”

Samuel sighs “But it would be better if we could separate these two, I think you should look again at the seating charts.”

I raise a single eyebrow. “No.”

Ariana asks softly “Why?” I turn to her, seeing the faint shiver as she expects me to snap at her.

I state blandly “Everything is exactly as I intend for it to be. Have some faith in my abilities.”

Anna, who knows me a little better than the rest, asks “Sydney, what are you planning?”

I reply “An excellent wedding.” I can feel Bran’s amusement at my side, and I take his hand in one of mine. A simple pleasure, that I have so rarely been able to indulge in. A female leader cannot be seen to rely on anyone if she wants to keep her power. Maybe it will be nice to step back for a year or two, to not be so relentlessly independent. No, I’ll be bored within the week. Full ahead it will be, then. Good, or else I’d have to rearrange my wedding seating. That spreadsheet is truly a work of art, and needs no more to make it perfect.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to post. School's a bitch.

Chapter 23

 

** POV Asil**

 

The wedding is gorgeous, as should be expected from someone known as the Siren. The decorations are fabulous, and everything goes off without a hitch. The best moment is when the minister begins the service in Welsh. When they speak their vows, I swear that I can see a tear roll down Bran’s cheek. Unfortunately, I am spending far too much time analyzing the room. Not the beautiful stained glass windows and fabulous decorations, no. I am watching the people. Well, perhaps assorted creatures would describe them better. I would be hesitant to name some of them as actual people.

Beauclaire is trying to be inconspicuous, but the fact that old Siebold is sitting within his line of sight has been driving him up the wall. Beauclaire nearly reacted to Nemane when he walked in. She has a seat right on the aisle. There is plenty of space around her.

Siebold is pretending nonchalance, but he seems slightly undernourished from when I last saw him. He brought his son, who is a power in his own right. Some expression flashed across Sydney’s face when she saw Tad, and I wonder why. Did she not know of Zee’s son? Or was it something else? Just a second before the service started, a powerful but fragile fae walked in, a vampire on her arm, and sat in the back row. That pair made my hackles go up, and their connection runs deep. I could smell something strange binding them. Bran’s sons are sitting in the front row, as expected for family. I am sure it is driving Charles slowly mad to have the gaze of powerful fae upon his back, but nothing shows. Samuel is relaxing on the end of the pew, body twisted just slightly so he can keep an eye on the room. Ariana is resolutely not looking behind her, but she must hate all of us terrible dogs at her back. Her fear has improved, but not that much judging by the white knuckled grip she has on Samuel’s hand. Mercedes, as always, seems completely unfazed by the people in the room. She even brought Adam with her. He is definitely concerned about the power in the room, his shoulders tight and his back straight. Only Anna seems actually relaxed, but she probably doesn’t realize the true power Sydney has gathered in this church.

Of surprise to me are the number of lesser fae. There are easily a dozen smaller fae, with little magic, but of old age. The Siren called, and they came. Considering the fae are all supposed to be locked up, perhaps they are not as lesser as they appear. A few sit near Beauclaire, a silent pledging of allegiance, and one is obviously guarding Nemane’s back. I cannot wait to see how the fae act at the banquet. The Marrok warned his whole pack on how to interact with the fae. He won’t be happy if a few of the fae decide to capture some of his wolves with a few misplaced words.

There are, of course, many strange werewolves. I recognize a few from the European packs, but most are wolves that pledge to the Marrok. I recognize many. I had not known that Sydney kept tabs on so many of her old friends. But then, she has been here in the states for years. She’s probably been tracking the lot of us for years now. Matter of fact, I wonder how she’s been supporting herself. Sydney never had a problem acquiring cash when she needed it, but rarely invested or planned for her personal future. She told me once that she preferred collecting favors than gold. I wonder how many here owe her a debt.

Anyway, the ceremony is glorious, and everyone seems suitably moved and uplifted. Next comes something of a break, then the festivities start. There will be an hour and a half of mixing, as people change into more comfortable clothes and drift into the hall. Then will be two hours of dinner, then the wedding gifts. Those will be fun. Then there shall be dancing, and that is when all hell should break loose. Hopefully the humans leave before then. If not, it’s not my responsibility.

I keep Sage at my side as I whisper details of who and what various personages are. Sage seems intrigued, which is not particularly helpful. Typically, the fae would gather in one circle and exchange barbed comments, but Loan, or Zee as he likes to be called, and Beauclaire have their little snit going. What was Sydney thinking, inviting them both? I know she knew Beauclaire, but I don’t know why she invited Zee. I can’t imagine that Bran would have, either though. Perhaps Mercedes simply brought him? That seems most likely, but I wouldn’t think she would interfere with guesting rules in such a sideways fashion. No, Sydney must have invited him, but why?

Sage elbows me to ask “Who is that fae?”

I look and frown “Are you sure that is a fae?”

Sage rolls her eyes “Who else would it be? With that scent?”

I look again and growl. It’s Sydney, who is walking in glamour among her guests. She isn’t supposed to appear for another half hour. I shrug “I think I know, but I don’t want my head taken off for it.” I look around the room again, and I spot Bran, also looking different and smelling of fae. He looks like he thinks it is a great joke. I glance around the room again. Zee is glaring at Sydney in her glamour. She just raises an eyebrow. They communicate soundlessly, but there is no telepathy. What is between them? I never heard rumor of a connection at all.

I look back to Sage. She is gaping at Bran in his glamour. She gasps “Is that?”

I cover her mouth. Better not to blab it all over “I think so.”

As I watch from the corner, Sydney catches Bran’s eye. They use telepathy to communicate, I am nearly sure of it. They are both slightly telepathic, it makes sense that it is part of their bond, even new as it is. My suspicion is confirmed when they drift out, one after the other, only to enter together a few minutes later, in normal forms. I decide to go catch up with Mercy.

Mercy see me approaching and smiles “Asil, good to see you again.”

I nod. “I am pleased to see you as well. Do you know Sage?”

Sage rolls her eyes “Of course.” I deliberately ignore Zee, who is standing on the other side of Mercy, with Tad in between them.

I greet “Hello, Tad.”

He nods “Asil. How are the mountains treating you?”

“Very well. Has anything settled down in your area of the woods?”

Tad shakes his head, mischief in his eyes “Nope, Mercy keeps everyone hopping.”

Sage laughs “I see you haven’t changed at all, then, Mercy.”

She drawls “Is there a correct answer to that question?” We laugh, and she redirects “So, tell me about this girl Bran is marrying. I can’t believe I’ve never heard about her before.”

Sage comments “Well, Asil is the person to ask. Sydney was apparently his Alpha ages ago.”

Mercy’s eyes widen “Really? Do tell. I thought women never held rank until now.”

I shrug “The Siren has always been special. She is old and very dominant. She was raised as a warrior, according to her, though I never knew exactly where or when.”

Tad asks “Is she really fae? I thought she was a werewolf.”

I reply “Again, from what I have gathered, she claims fae blood, but says it would not have been enough for immortality, such as it is. She has some power, though.”

Zee nods at that “Aye, yes. She has power from the earth, power in blood. But she gains her strength from the wolf.”

Tad frowns “But her glamour…”

Zee shrugs “Glamour often grows with age.”

I reply “The Lady once claimed that she could not hold a full glamour until she was a few centuries old. That was in 1500 something.”

Tad asks Zee “So how old is this woman?”

Mercy interrupts with “That’s rude, Tad. Asil, how does she hold rank?”

I reply “Her usual method is to kill anyone who tells her she can’t. It is very effective for wolves. She is frightening when she chooses to be.”

Mercy asks “So is she more fae or werewolf?”

I shrug “She collects debts like a fae, probably don’t thank her, but she often acts and reasons like a wolf.” I hear the slightest of sounds behind me, and suddenly my arm explodes in pain. I growl “Siren, what was that for?”

She drops me, looking amused. “You ought to know better than to spill all my secrets.”

I grouse “I don’t even know half of your secrets.”

Sydney ignores me, reaching across the table “I’m pleased to meet you, Mercedes.”

They shake hands “Please, call me Mercy.”

Sydney raises an eyebrow “I shall, if you decide to put peanut butter on my seat.”

Mercy and Tad start laughing. Sydney glances at Tad “And would you be the son of the great Adelbertsmiter?”

He looks annoyed “I go by Tad.”

Sydney nods “Thaddeus, I heard. You’re in for an eventful century or two.” Now, I don’t know all that much about power games, but I know names have power. That’s why I changed mine. Why is Sydney playing games with Tad? To annoy Zee, of course. Zee does look mildly ticked off, and Tad seems a little confused, but his face quickly drops into a blank mask. That is the best expression to be used when talking to the fae. Sydney laughs softly, like the first ray of sunshine. She says “Relax, I mean you no harm this day. My word on it.” Tad relaxes just slightly, though Zee looks even more suspicious. I agree with Zee on this one. Harm has such a loose definition.

Mercy asks “Where are you from, Sydney?” She’s trying to distract Sydney from Tad.

“I came here from the wilds of New England.”

Mercy demands “And you were the Alpha there? Why would you give that up?”

Sydney raises an eyebrow “True love, of course.” She isn’t lying. But I am sure her desire for power had something to do with it.

“But how did you become Alpha?”

Sydney raises an eyebrow “It’s simple. Kill the previous Alpha in ritual challenge. If anyone objects, kill them too.”

Mercy complains “You sound like Zee.”

They both raise an eyebrow at her. Sydney mutters “I think I was just insulted.”

Zee scowls at her. That’s the Loan we all love. Dark scowls and no sense of humor. Half a second of Sydney’s most wicked smile, and Zee backs down. What is up with those two? Zee is the stronger fae, for certain. Why does Sydney frighten him so?

Sydney addresses Mercy “Any other questions on how to be an Alpha?”

Mercy gets that blink of mischief in her eyes “What about gay werewolves? Do they get to live in packs?”

Sydney shrugs “No reason why not, now is there?” She turns the question neatly upon itself. I shake my head. Mercy and Sydney going at it is a thing of beauty in itself. Sydney smiles “It was a delight meeting you, and I hope we shall become better acquainted in the time to come. But I must grace some of my other guests with my presence.”

Zee grumbles “We wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties as a host.”

“It was delightful catching up with you as well, old friend.” Sydney walks lightly away, just in time to greet another wolf with an exclamation of delight. Mercy and Tad both look expectantly at Zee.

Mercy asks “Who is she?”

Zee mutters “Siren, the great fae assassin.”

Tad asks “What is she to you?”

Zee replies “Apparently an old friend.” He looks at me “Any guesses to be ventured, that I could of course neither confirm nor deny?”

Sage, who was silent during most of this, shakes her head “I wouldn’t dare. I don’t feel like becoming a bug today.”

Our group drifts apart, and I introduce Sage to a number of wolves I once knew. They all seem to want updates on Sydney. An old friend of hers, Tabitha, asks “When should we return for the funeral?”

I roll my shoulders and say with assurance “There won’t be one.”

Tabitha grins “So has she fooled everyone this time?”

I reply “I think it’s genuine, but time will tell.”

Tabitha nods “Make sure I get an invitation.”

After she drifts off, Sage asks “Who’s funeral?”

I reply “Tabitha’s a weird bird. Don’t worry.”

Sage thinks about it “She meant Bran’s funeral. Who is Sydney, really?”

I sigh “An excellent Alpha.”

Sage mutters “And apparently an excellent fae assassin.”

I nod “A fantastic warrior.”

Sage adds “And according to Anna, also some sort of a pirate Captain. She claims to have gotten into the pirates of the Caribbean.”

I frown “She acted in it, or her myth?”

“It sounded like one of the characters was based on her.”

I laugh softly, because I know exactly the character. “I don’t doubt that for a minute. She’d fit right in as a pirate.”

Sage frowns “Really? She seems quite polished.”

I shake my head “At heart, I think she is the type to fight all day, and drink all night. But she’s had centuries to appear otherwise.”

Sage shakes her head “Too many damned secrets.”

Siren steps up next to Sage and replies “But I love secrets.” She keeps walking.

Sage mutters beneath her breath “That’s just freaky.”

I grin “The Lady is something of a telepath.”

Sage stops short “Seriously?”

I shrug “It was limited to certain wolves within the pack, but…” Sage gestures for me to go on. I continue, voicing a theory “My guess is, that because The Lady and our venerable emperor are both on the telepathic side, their abilities may both be strengthened.” I glance around. “It looks like people are heading to seats. Do you want to see where Sydney felt like putting us?”

Sage smiles “I think I saw our name tags on that table.” We drift over and sit down. There are a great number of round tables, set for eight. Much to my surprise, I see that Beauclaire is seated at our table. Sage whispers “Is that?”

I cut her off “Yes.” I’m so going to get revenge on Sydney for this. She wants me to persuade Gwyn ap Lugh to stand behind her. But to do it without seeming to politic my way through at all. At any rate, he won’t be scared of me. I get closer and realize that there is an almost-human seated next to him, with some sort of brace on her legs. I remember, Charles got sent to Boston with Anna, to help Beauclaire find his daughter, and that’s how somebody got executed on national television. He brought his daughter? Or was she specifically invited as a power play on the part of the Siren? Sage sits down next to her.

“Hello, my name is Sage.” She holds out her hand to shake.

The girl responds “My name is Lizzie, nice to meet you.” Either she doesn’t realize Sage is a werewolf, or she doesn’t care. Beauclaire stiffens and then relaxes. Then he notices me watching. I take my seat, holding his eyes.

Beauclaire inclines his head “I don’t believe we’ve met, but I believe we know each other by reputation.”

I smile, and it has far too much teeth in it. “Delighted to meet you. I go by Asil these days.” I hold up my place tag.

“As I go by Beauclaire.”

Lizzie whispers to Sage, a human whisper “Who is he really?”

Sage responds with a grin “The Moor.” Lizzie’s eyes widen.

“Really? Wait, are you a werewolf too?”

Sage nods “I’m dating him.”

“Seriously? That’s cool, I guess.” I just raise a mild eyebrow at Sage, and she smiles. I glance at the other name tags. It looks like the Texas Alphas and two names I don’t recognize. One ends up being fae, the other their human partner. It is a nicely balanced table, and I remember how good Sydney always was at planning parties like this. She learned in an age when if the hostess seated guests wrong, duels would break out and her reputation would be ruined. Sydney became very, very good at it. Then she figured out she could poison her guests better if they all sat where they were supposed to. That was a fun night.

I glance over to see who Sydney is sitting with. She is seated next to Bran, of course. Next to her is Anna, then Charles. Next to him is my son, Hussan. I did not expect to see him, and it has me concerned that she invited him. I can’t quite figure out why, though. Next to him is a pretty young woman, she could be human, but something tells me she’s werewolf. To round out the party are Thomas Hao, the vampire, and a Faerie princess of some sort. She has old court power, but her body seems strangely delicate. The vampire is protective of her. I just wonder which of our tables will have more interesting conversation.

 

Chapter 24

 

I smile at my table, and squeeze Bran’s hand gently. This will be a fun dinner. Anna shines brightly beside me, while Charles tries to glower. Anna pokes him every time until he starts acting civil. I ask her, extremely quietly “Do you think I should try that?” She smiles.

Once the pleasantries are over, Margaret asks a very direct question. So unlike a fae. I heard she was young but not that young. “Sydney, why am I here?”

I tip my head “Daughter of the Flanagan.” I don’t say anything more, taking another bite of the very good food.

Margaret taps her finger on the table “And?”

The vampire smiles “That is the sum of her answer.”

“So I’m here because of my father?”

I shrug gracefully. “Initially. I’ve never had a message go to the wrong person before.”

“I received an invitation for the Flanagan plus one.”

I nod “Precisely. I prefer to address letters such as that to the original name of the person. Flanagan was not your father’s original name, as I am sure you know. I thought it would be most accurate, but it went to you instead. I was curious, so when you wrote me back, I asked you to come.”

“And here I am, still confused.”

I smile “Magic is a funny thing. You have your own magic, strong and true. Interwoven with that is a layer of your father’s magic. Most fae could not tell the difference, it is scent that gives it away. Your name is Flanagan, your blood carries his, and you carry his magic. It was enough to lead a simple spell astray and make me curious.”

Margaret raises an eyebrow “A wolf’s curiosity, then.”

I shake my head “A human curiosity, I think. But either way, I am impressed. I had never heard of the Flanagan’s daughter, making you quite young, Maggie.”

“I don’t feel particularly young.”

“Fae rarely do. Especially when they have suffered.”

The vampire breaks in “How do you know that?”

I raise an eyebrow “I knew the Flanagan.”

The vampire dances carefully “Who were you to the Flanagan?”

I nod, accepting the game. The vampire is protecting Maggie, quite forcefully but subtly. “I served him for a century or few. I thought he might be amused at this turn of events.”

“In what capacity did you serve?”

I let a wicked grin come out for a minute “What are werewolves especially good at?”

The werewolf next to Maggie, who was watching this Ping-Pong match replies “Killing things.”

I nod “Precisely.”

Maggie breaks in “You were my father’s assassin for centuries? And that made you decide to invite him to your wedding many centuries later?”

I tilt my head and look into the distance. I bring my eyes back to her and nod “More or less. Close enough to be going on.”

Thomas Hao tilts his head, entirely predatory. “You owed the Flanagan a debt.”

I match his look “Of a sort. He had my highest respect, and so do you.” I make eye contact with Maggie. Ball is in her court.

“Thank you, I think.”

I laugh “You really ought not to thank the fae.”

She laughs in return “The words mean nothing.”

I shake my head “Please don’t tell that to the crow.” She shakes her head, knowing exactly who I mean. Bran decides to interrupt the conversation.

“Before we offend any more of our guests, perhaps you could give us a little insight into what the fae are up to?”

Maggie grins “I am sure I wouldn’t know.” She shakes her head “Things are messy right now, and I am staying well out of it.”

Bran nods “Probably very wise.” He asks “Hussan, how do the Spanish packs fair?”

He looks startled to be addressed “Well, for the most part. We have avoided major incidents, and the people have settled. My Alpha does well with the press, and we keep everything we can quiet. Spain is still very catholic, but we convinced a few priests that God created werewolves as a trial to mankind.” We laugh at that. Hussan sobers and asks “How is my father doing?”

Bran passes the question to me with a flick of his eyes. “He does as well as could be expected for someone so crazy. He recovers more as entertainment presents itself.”

“He’s not actually as crazy as the world believes, then is he?”

I shrug “Depends on your definition of crazy. But he probably is. He is only slightly more insane than he was in the 1500’s.”

The wolf at his side, Rihanna, shakes her head “I don’t think that is exactly reassuring. Wasn’t that around when he escaped from Loan Maclibhuin?”

I shake my head “He tells that story better than I do. Though, that whole incident was sort of on me. It was entertaining at any rate.”

Maggie frowns at me “You talk like a fae. I thought you were a werewolf.”

I shrug “The two are not mutually exclusive, and perhaps you will find most older creatures talk in the same manner. There are very few wolves to prove that point, though. I am more wolf than fae, however.”

Hussan asks with interest “Can you lie?”

“I don’t lie. It is foolish among wolves, dangerous among fae, and useless among humans.”

Charles shakes his head “And that statement, within itself, is a deception.”

Bran and I smile at the same time. I can feel the unison of movement through the bond for a split second. It seems like our bond has far more to give us, if we give it the time. If we give each other the trust needed to flourish. Magic can be so freaking unpredictable.

Hussan changes the subject, perhaps sensing the tension. “Do you have any interesting stories of Asil? I heard you were his Alpha for a time.”

I smile “Amazing how history comes back to haunt you. Yes, Asil served as my second for a few years. I suppose there could be a few stories I can remember.” I pause to think, holding them in dramatic suspense. “You know, there was that one time when I made a mistake of forcing him to attend a party with some rather important guests. See, the pack hated social events. Being forced to wear tights, dressing up and pretending to be civilized, they all hated it. So, whoever displeased me was required to serve at the next event. It was a very effective method of punishment.”

Anna interrupts “What did he do, to gain your displeasure?”

“Well, once there was a nobleman who decided that he needed to court me. And because he was a very powerful noble man, and I a rich widow, I didn’t smack him down. Unfortunately, one day he grabbed my arm and pulled. Asil saw, and decided the man needed a lesson. I forbade Asil from hurting this nobleman or any of his servants, family, or retainers.” Hussan shakes his head. I nod “I obviously wasn’t specific enough, because Asil proceeded to run over a hundred miles to kill every single chicken this poor man owned. Every single chicken. And I may never have known it was him, except for the fact that he replaced this poor man’s dinner with all of the baby chicks, still alive. I have no idea how he managed it, but the nobleman was horrified, his staff was terrified, and I had to do something about Asil.” The whole table is laughing at this point. I continue “Right, so baby chicks. I required Asil to serve at the next banquet I held. It shouldn’t have been too difficult for him; it was the standard punishment for disobedience. It was just dressing up, carrying food, serving drinks and the like. Everyone else in the pack managed just fine.  However, he decided to quote Dante’s inferno every single time he interacted with one of the staff or one of the guests. Now, you all know Asil, he can be sneaky and terrifying when he wants to be. Just imagine him, in formal dress, pouring some nice red wine into your glass. Now add his insane yellow eyes and muttering in Italian about hell and damnation, all-consuming fire, and whatever else Dante came up with. He scared everyone too much for them to tell me it was an issue. I didn’t find out until nearly the end of the night.” I shake my head at the foolishness.

Hussan asks, wide-eyed “Then what happened?”

I laugh “I sent him to his room. With a command not to leave it. Even Asil couldn’t get around that one.”

Hussan asks “And then what?”

I shake my head “That’s it.”

Bran chuckles softly to himself. Hussan asks “How is that punishment for a wolf?”

Bran asks “How long did you leave him there?”

I laugh again “Three days. Although I did allow food and water after the first day. The pack walked on eggshells around him for a solid month after that.”

Hussan shakes his head “He would have hated that. How did he stay in a room for 3 days without going insane?”

I laugh “That’s easy, he was already crazy.”

Charles frowns “It is very dangerous to do something like that to a werewolf. Wouldn’t a more standard punishment have been better?” Oh, this youngling is challenging my ability to be an Alpha? I think I will have to set the record straight.

I shake my head dismissively “The amount of physical punishment I would be willing to inflict would have meant absolutely nothing to a wolf as stubborn and hardened as Asil. So, I had to come up with something else. Today, you would call it psychological punishment. The humans favored public shaming at that time, but that would not be appropriate for my second. He needed to be disciplined without losing the respect of the pack. So, time-out it was. I had a few years of obedience, as best as Asil could manage, after that.”

Hussan shakes his head ‘“Obey’ is not in his vocabulary.” We all smile, and I let the conversation drift to other topics. I don’t want Asil too upset at me for spilling his past. Although, it is fair because he’s been spilling a good number of my secrets.

Sometime later, after the plates have been cleared, I meet Bran’s eyes. He nods and we stand together, uncannily in unison. We face the room. I declare “Your coming to this feast means a great deal to us, and we appreciate your presence. We hope that you will stay and enjoy the rest of the evening. Coffee will be coming around, but if you wish to watch us open this trove of gifts, you are welcome to gather around.” With my words as a cue, a few of Bran’s wolves bring the pile of gifts to our table. Released from formalities, people stand and wander around, catching up with friends and old acquaintances. Hussan and his werewolf friend go straight to Asil and start bothering him, I suspect about baby chicks, while I see Beauclaire make his way forward. Bran goes for the first gift, but I tap his shoulder. We snap into sync again, and I can feel exactly what he senses. It is disorienting. Beauclaire bows upon reaching us. Bran and I bow to exactly the same height, perhaps a smidge less than Beauclaire.

I speak “Welcome to Aspen Creek, Prince Gwyn.”

“My compliments on your party, alphas. I bring a gift.” He produces a small piece; it appears to be a pearl. I open my hand, and he places it within. I hold it up. It pounds with power, a throb that reminds me of something. I hold it to my heard, and hear the waves crashing.

I respond “We appreciate your majestic gift.”

Beauclaire raises an eyebrow “Do you understand what it does?”

I smile “I hear the heart of the ocean, trapped within a small pearl.”

“When you have need of the Ocean, crush the pearl underfoot. The Ocean will shortly follow. Now, I take my leave. I have tarried too far apart from my people, and times are perilous.”

Bran responds “We bid you good day, and fair winds to speed you home.” Beauclaire bows slightly, then turns and makes his way out of the room. Bran asks me telepathically *What does the pearl do? *

I reply *If I’m not mistaken, it will summon a tsunami. *

Bran mutters “Damn.” We move on to the other presents. Ten bags of pancake mix later, Bran looks a little annoyed. I see Samuel and Mercy giggling in the corner, and know who is responsible. See, they wrapped the pancake mix in bags and boxes of differing size and added rocks to change the weight, as well as ridiculous perfumes. So, Bran though it would be something different every time. I’m just going to be thankful if that’s the only prank they have planned for the night.

Anna gave me a hand sewn blue pirate flag. I don’t have the heart to tell her how bad her stitching is. I appreciate the gesture. There are of course, the run of trivial dishes, silverware, household odds & ends, and knick-knacks I will probably never use. Bran receives an electric guitar, and an amplifier. I am sure it is someone’s idea of a joke. Werewolf ears don’t really like amplifiers, or electric guitars, for that matter.

A simple brown bag has my eyebrows raised. I feel a strange sort of energy radiating from it. Inside are two medicine balls, in the fashion of the Native Americans. I turn them over in my hand, trusting my instincts on which to give to Bran. I don’t recognize all the symbols woven into the bag, but I ask Bran silently *Salish or Kootenai?*

Bran responds in my head *Salish.*

I call old words out of my memory, from a language that I thought might be gone. I doubt such a ritual has changed. Roughly translated “Our thanks for your gift. We will hold our bond sacred and true. We honor your blessing.” I cross my arms over my chest, Bran still moving in unison with me, and nod our heads slightly. I sense just a flicker of shock from Charles, and Anna looks into his face searchingly, probably feeling something through their mating bond. But he just inclines his head barely a degree. We move on, and open more gifts.

 

Chapter 25

 

**POV Asil**

 

I sit back and watch Sydney open her presents. She always did love presents, especially when they have dangerous things like magic, poison, or knives in them. Beauclaire gave her a pearl. It is a bad sign when a fae feels the need to hand you something directly. Charles gave them something Indianesque, and Sydney replied in a language I have never heard. One of the fae brought a four-leaf clover and said that it was compliments of his mistress. As he was the fae who was guarding Nemane, I can only assume that it came from her. It makes some amount of sense, the Morrigan is a Celtic goddess, but I thought a clover was simply for luck.

I thought the set of ten boxes of pancake mix was genius. I recognize the work of Mercy when I see it. At least it wasn’t peanut butter. As I think that, Bran opens up a present which does contain a jar of peanut butter.

My son keeps asking me about baby chicks or something. I try to figure out what he means, but there’s no way Sydney told him that story. I listen a little bit more. Yes, she told that story. I will have to come up with suitable revenge.

I look back at Sydney, just in time to see her opening a gorgeous long wooden box. It looks the length of a sword, but who would be foolish enough to gift the Siren with a sword? Like as not, she’ll simply chop their head off. She reaches down as if to touch it, then smiles and shakes her head. She strolls forward and grabs Tad’s hand from where he is standing next to Mercy. Mercy snarls at her, but Sydney only raises an eyebrow. Tad asks “What are you doing?”

Sydney asks “Will you help me with this present? Please?”

“Sure, I guess, what is it?” I wince. I thought Tad was more cautious than that.

The Siren reaches the box and holds Tad’s hand palm up. She hisses “Don’t move.”

Tad looks in the box “Hey is that one of my… Ouch.” Faster than I can blink, Sydney grabs the sword and slices it across Tad’s palm and her own wrist. Tad tries to pull away, but Sydney grabs his hand tighter, blood mixing together.

Sydney holds the sword up in her hand “By blood I bind thee to me, sword made by Zee.” She switches to another language for the next line, but I still recognize Tad’s full name and what I think is her original name. Then in Old High German she declares “By the blood of family, I bind thee to my will and name thee Balance.” Well, damn. I guess she doesn’t want the sword to turn on her like most of Zee’s creations tend to do. I don’t know much of magic, but I suspect that blood from a child of the sword’s creator could do some interesting stuff to change the sword’s allegiance. Tad seemed very confused by the whole thing. Oh, dear. Now he’s angry.

“What was that about? I thought you swore to do no harm to me.”

Sydney looks amused. “One, you aren’t harmed.” She holds up his hand. The wound made by the sword is completely sealed over. “Two, I swore to do no harm to you that day. It is currently night. Three, I said I meant you no harm at that time. That was a statement, not an oath.” Sydney smiles and pats Tad on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get better at that with time.” I glance behind me to see Zee glaring at Sydney. Oh, there will be a reckoning for that. I look back to the front. Tad is moving away as quickly as he can without showing any weakness. Sydney meets Zee’s eyes and smiles sweetly. I quickly glance back to Zee. He dips his eyes after a few seconds. I would really like to know what is between those two.

So, after the gifts wrap up, and people start to leave, I see old Ziebold go and request something of Sydney. They leave together, ducking out a side door. Tad sees them go and follows. Mercy considers following them, but decides to stay by Adam. Perhaps the first cautious thing I’ve seen her do. I leave out a different door and follow Tad through the woods. I follow by sound, mostly, and my sense of where my pack mates are. I see Tad hidden behind a bush, and I hear the annoyed voices of Zee and an amused but growing in anger Sydney. I jump up a tree for a better view. I hear from Zee “Why did you do that? You brutally attacked my son in front of the entire room, and not a single one said a word.”

Sydney puts a hand on her hip, annoyed “For one, I didn’t attack him. I merely cut his hand a bit. He healed incredibly fast anyway.”

“Yeah, because of the magic you were pulling through the blood.”

“Well, sorry, I had to make sure that the damn sword wasn’t going to kill me next time I picked it up. Your swords have a habit of doing that.”

Zee huffs “I don’t do that anymore.”

“You claimed not to make swords anymore either. Look how well that worked.”

“Anyway, you did not need to hurt my child to bind the sword. Your own damn blood would have worked just as well.”

Sydney shakes her head “No, the connection to metal is much stronger in Tad. You forget, I’m still slightly allergic to the damn iron.” They are shouting at each other now. How unlike the Siren to lose her temper. She sighs and takes a breath. “Drop glamour?”

A slight flash, then they stand without their glamour in the dark clearing. The first impression is of contrast. Sydney’s glittering obsidian hair and short stature to Zee’s height and white-gold braid. Yet, on second look, they carry certain similarities. And they go beyond the pointed ears to the scope of the face and the structure of the cheekbones. Their skin is just a tone apart from each other, but so striking is the beauty, pride and near-cruelty in their natural features.

Zee scowls “What I want to know is what you are up to now.”

“And why would I tell you that?”

Zee snarls “Because I care, damn it.”

Siren folds her arms and leans back. “Really? Because last time I checked, you wanted to make toys to kill things. It will take some convincing for me to believe you have any interest in the world outside your forge and your latest murder.”

Zee raises an eyebrow, the expression identical to Sydney’s “It will take some convincing for me to believe you are acting for any other than your own benefit, or you have interest beyond your latest husband to be murdered.”

Sydney shakes her head “I really don’t do that anymore.”

“Well, I don’t wander around killing people with my swords anymore.”

“Convince me.”

Zee makes a face like he’s taken a bite of something bitter. “Tad.”

Sydney tilts her head, considering that. “He’ll make an excellent fae, someday. You’ve taught him very well, but he’s an adult now.”

Zee stomps his foot “Siren, I don’t want him to be an excellent fae. I want him to have a chance at being a real person. As you and I are not.”

I see surprise and maybe a little bit of admiration come across Sydney’s features. “Well, that’s an entirely different proposition, now isn’t it? Did you actually develop a conscience?”

Zee retorts “Did you?”

Sydney shakes her head “Not quite yet. It will probably be another year or two before the Omega infects me with that particular handicap.”

Zee laughs and shakes his head. “When is the funeral?”

Sydney tosses back her head and laughs. “When will people stop asking that at my wedding?”

Zee retorts “When you stop having them.”

Sydney shakes her head “You know, we have an eavesdropper.”

Zee stiffens and spins towards the woods. He relaxes when Tad stands up. “Tad, you aren’t a child anymore. You should know not to spy.”

Tad mutters “It was informative, but my questions were not quite being answered. Lady, who are you to me?”

Siren starts laughing. “Oh, Ziebold, you didn’t tell him? No wonder he was so unprepared.” She turns to Tad “Lesson one, your father is always hiding something.”

Tad looks at his father. Zee sighs. “Tad, meet my half-sister, Magnhild.”

Sydney hisses “Don’t use that name, I buried it so deep only a true-namer can dig it out.”

Zee raises an eyebrow “You prefer Siren?”

She affects a pose “I prefer being addressed as Great Lady, but Sydney will do for now.”

Tad frowns “Wait, so you’re my aunt? And my first interaction with you is having you slice my hand open and do something with magic? What did you do to me, by the way?”

Sydney shrugs “I quenched a sword made by your father in our combined blood and bound it to my will. See?” She holds up her hand and the sword appears in it. I swear I saw her lock that in the wooden box.

Tad’s eyebrows go up. Then he focuses “But what did you do to me? I can feel when a spell is being worked on me.”

Sydney shrugs “It is just a light binding of blood I needed for the spell. It will probably fade within the century.”

Tad demands “Within the century? What did you actually do?”

Sydney mutters “Well, we’ll probably be able to tell each other’s location if we’re within 50 miles or so. It depends on what else mixed in the blood. Your mother’s line had some traces of magic I didn’t immediately recognize.”

Tad frowns “My mother was human.”

Sydney shrugs “Mostly. A lot of humans have hints of other blood deep within their veins, hidden in their DNA.”

Tad asks “Wasn’t that a very risky thing to do?”  
Sydney affects a German accent just like Zee’s “Lad, there’s a war coming, and I need a good sword in my hand.”

Zee starts shaking his head slowly “You’re going to lead the army. That is brilliant but brutal.”

Sydney mock curtsies “War is my specialty.”

Zee swears in German. I won’t translate. He then continues “You are more than committed. You have put everything on the line. There won’t be a safe place in the world to run when you are done.”

Her eyes flash “Damn it, I know. The world shrinks with every camera, satellite and extension of the internet. There is nowhere to hide, aside from great magic. And I am no power, to level cities or build killing machines. The wolves are doing right, and I will take that work to the close.”

Tad asks “To the close of what?”

Sydney shrugs “To a resolution. I do not yet know what that will, or even should be. Besides, I am a werewolf before I am fae.”

Zee scowls “You just want to lead the greatest army the world has seen.”

Sydney shakes her head “Not the greatest, but perhaps the deadliest.” She smiles “Come on, wouldn’t you prefer I lead the army over another?”

Zee shakes his head “As long as you’re on my side.”

Sydney nods “I assume you will stand with the wolves and humans.”

Tad asks “Will the wolves stand with the humans?” I think it’s a valid question.

Sydney laughs, the sound filling the clearing and making Tad and Zee smile involuntarily. “I don’t think there is any other option. The wolves are so close to the humans these days. Perhaps a few packs could flip, but Bran will not be given the option by his own pack.” She holds up and admonishing finger “Without my help, thank you very much. The real deciding factor will be how many fae we can bring over. There are so many differing voices of insanity among the fae right now. And I can’t involve myself directly.”

Tad asks “Why?”

Siren shakes her head, letting her hair spill down her back. “I am Alpha of North America. I cannot abandon that for fae politics.”

Zee growls “I am not getting into politics for you. No way.”

“You’re already in because of the little Fire. I’m not saying to follow the rules any more than you ever do, but let people know where your allegiance stands. Let them know their options.”

Zee shakes his head “Beauclaire won’t ally with me. He’s your best bet for a fae alliance. He cares for his daughter.”

Sydney raises an eyebrow “The whole world knows that. But he won’t ally now. He has a plan and an agenda, to lead the fae to a greater peace. It has to fail before he will ally. If, by some very unlikely chance he succeeds we may avert war for another century. Believe me, if his plans fail, you’ll be the last thing on his mind. Not saying he won’t stab you in the back, given opportunity, but he is unlikely to bother with hunting you down.”

Zee shakes his head “Fae don’t change.”

Sydney asks softly “Really?” She pauses. “Consider it, I must head back. I’ve been gone from my own party too long.” She spins and heads directly for me. I freeze, but she makes eye contact and orders me telepathically *Come and walk with me.* I obey, not having much of a choice.

After we put some distance between us and Zee, the Siren traps my face between her hands, quick like a snake. She forces me to meet her eyes. “I command that you not communicate any detail, fact or speculation about who I talked to or what passed between Zee, Tad and I. If you somehow get around that order, I will kill you. Now, why don’t you run off?”

I run. I just can’t figure out how she knew I was there. I was downwind and invisible in the trees. And she can’t sense the location of wolves through the pack bonds, right? Or can she. That would be terrifying. I run faster, arriving back and grabbing a drink for Sage, who is chatting with Mercy.


End file.
